


Numb

by BlueIsTheColourOfOurPlanet



Series: Numb + Omakes [1]
Category: Fullmetal Alchemist: Brotherhood & Manga
Genre: Al's dead, Crimes & Criminals, Depressed Edward Elric, Gen, Multi Chapter fic + omakes, Parental Roy Mustang
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-11
Updated: 2016-06-03
Packaged: 2018-06-01 17:00:38
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 34
Words: 97,448
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6528466
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BlueIsTheColourOfOurPlanet/pseuds/BlueIsTheColourOfOurPlanet
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Bringing this story over here from fanfiction.net</p><p>Al was dead. That was the last thing Edward Elric registered before he went numb. He didn't faint, he just went numb. Stopped feeling, stopped realising, stopped responding to the world. Just numb.- One of these storys where Al is dead and Ed tries to cope and Mustang tries to light up a new fire in Edward's eyes. Parental/friendship. plus omake at the end.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Numb

**Author's Note:**

> So...now I am one of those heartless authors who kill poor Alphonse and torture Edward for a story. I feel bad, but not too bad ;-)
> 
> This story will be beta edited from chapter 8 on, until then please bear with me...

**Prologue**

They had it. A stone. A red, gleaming philosophers stone. And they used it. Edward wanted Alphonse to have his body back first. How he now wished he had given in to Alphonse insisting that they should first restore his arm and leg. How could he have been so stupid not to remember what had happened when he didn't listen to Alphonse the last time they drew this circle? But he insisted that Alphonse was more important. And Alphonse was more important. Now Alphonse is dead.

The stone, the red, gleaming stone was a fake.

Good enough to pass through as the real thing when they tested it on various transmutations. But when it was set to work in the final, ultimate transmutation to reach their goal, it failed. It failed and brought back a body as deformed and damaged and _wrong_ as their first attempt on human transmutation. The only difference was that Ed didn't have to pay for it with a leg. Though he wished he had to, because he deserved it. He caused Alphonse to die a horrible death and remained unharmed. What sick joke of equivalent exchange was that? He was about to give his other arm, to force Alphonse's soul back in the armour for a second chance, a new hunt for the stone. But the barely living pile of malformed organs in the middle of the transmutationcircle spoke " _No._ "

He stared at it, eyes wide, tears running. "Al, just wait a second and we'll have a second chance, okay, just wait I'll make it good again, just a second...", he started rambling as he made his way to the remnants of the armour that lay next to the mutilated flesh.

"No." A hand without skin closed over his. "No. Let...me..go. I see...mom. Live on..for me."

"But, but, Al, I can't, not without you...It's...I can't...No...Impossible...I..."

"Live. Help people. We'll...wait...for you...to come after...a...long...happy...life...love you."

And the visible lung stopped breathing. And the pulsing heart, _Al always had such a big heart,_ stopped it's beating.

That was the last thing Edward Elric registered before he went numb. He didn't faint, he just went numb. Stopped feeling, stopped realising, stopped responding to the world. Just Numb.

 

* * *

**Chapter 1**

**Numb**

He was at a place that hurt. It hurt because this was the place where he would have gone to live their happy ever after. Not to live alone. Well he wasn't really alone, Winry was there and Pinako. But no Al. He had no right to live in this wonderful, beautiful, little town. He had left it and he had sworn not to come back until after he had fixed Al. But here he was. Without Al. It just _hurt_.

But Winry wanted him here, she thought it was good. So he stayed. He didn't want her to cry. And as long as he stayed numb it was really okay. Numbness was the best thing that had ever happened to him, really. He didn't need to think, he just needed to be. Let his head feel pleasantly light. Yes, he could live like that. After all Al had told him to live. And if he had learned one thing it was that Alphonse was the one of them who would make the right decisions. He had definitely learned that, it was branded into his brain, together with the memory of that _body_. To late though. He had learned to late, Al was dead. He couldn't speak an opinion for Ed to listen to any more. Now Ed would always be nothing but a failure, a compass that pointed south because the magnet that pulled the small arrow into the right direction was gone. But if he stayed numb he couldn't feel it. If he stayed numb he wouldn't get stupid ideas again.

He went through the day, doing what Winry and Pinako told him. Making them happy was the least he could do. His only goal that managed it's way through the numbness. So he got out of bed when they called him, ate his food when they put it in front of him, did the chores they asked him to do, listened when they spoke about things and sat quietly on his bed in between, so he wouldn't be a bother when they didn't need him. He didn't know how long this has been going on before one day Pinako told him that Colonel Mustang would come over because Ed couldn't just vanish from the military. If he wanted to leave it he would have to work through the discharge process and if he wanted to stay he needed to give a report really fast before he was declared AWOL and got a court martial. He simply nodded at her, the information not really getting through, just the name did. Mustang.

It was weird, to hear that name after what seemed like forever to him. He had gone so numb that all his memories of his journey had become something ghostlike, that Mustang had become something ghostlike. For the first second he actually didn't know who Pinako was talking about, before the pictures flashed trough his mind. A blue clad figure, standing, looking out of the window behind a desk. The same person sitting behind that same desk, resting elbows on the wooden surface, a chin on interlaced fingers, black hair, black, piercing eyes, an unnerving smirk, an annoyed frown, a hand passing over files, passing over missions, passing over leads on the stone.

He felt anger rising within him but extinguished it immediately. He wanted to stay numb and he knew it wasn't Mustang's fault. If the Colonel had known that the stone would be fake and work out wrong he wouldn't have passed on the lead. Ed was sure of that, he had never known what exactly he was to Mustang and especially now he couldn't care less, but he at least knew that Mustang wouldn't waste a valuable dog.

Ed would make the man happy and do the paperwork needed to retire and then he would leave him behind, leave him be in memories. Memories of a past that was so very unnecessary because it would have all been preventable if he had just listened to Al and never activated that circle. He clutched his head and forced it to stop thinking.

* * *

Pinako watched with a pained expression. She didn't like the military dogs, but she prayed to whatever higher being there was, that that particular soldier would maybe manage to get Edward back on his feet a second time.

* * *

Edward was called down to the living room so he came down stairs. He was asked to sit on the couch so he sat. Winry next to him sighed. She did that a lot around him lately but he was only determined not to make her cry so he didn't think bout it.

"Do you want something to drink?", she asked everyone in a tired voice.

Ed wanted nothing but Al so he kept quiet like he always did when he was asked something like this.

"Some coffee, please.", said someone else though. Should he bother to identify the voice? It was so familiar, so... _important_. He looked up. Black eyes, watching him above interlaced fingers. There was no desk, the elbows were resting on his knees, but it was Mustang, no doubt. Ah, yes, Pinako did say something about him coming by because Ed needed to fill out papers if he wanted to stay here. Did he want that? No, the place hurt. But it made Winry happy. And he didn't have any goal. And Mustang would not want a dog that did neither bark nor bite anymore. Though the colonel would probably appreciate the lack of resistance against orders. The thought almost made him snort. But that might endanger his numbness. So he stuck to the plan: Sign papers and forget, stay in this place and make Winry happy. He grabbed the pen on the coffee table.

"Straight to the point, I see, Fullmetal"

He was so used to Winry and Pinako speaking to him in low voices, careful and afraid of upsetting him and of course laced with their own sadness, that this almost arrogant, this slightly mocking everyday tone of Mustang almost made him react. But he caught himself. With the surprise gone Mustang's words and tone stopped bothering him.

"Don't worry, we'll get this done if you want to, we're not _short_ on _time,_ after all _._ "

No. No surprise, no reaction. That joke was a classic one, put away with the rest of the memories and no longer thought of. He drowned the colonel out and just stared at the pen.

He found it okay to react to the others again when Mustang laid the papers in front of him. He waited for the instruction of where he had to sign.

"Do you want to stay here or do you want to stay with the military?", Mustang asked, his tone clipped, like the tone of someone who found that the person he talked to wouldn't listen to flowery words anyway. Why did Mustang have to ask a question? Couldn't he just tell Ed to sign? He didn't want to make a decision. If he did what he wanted his decision would be wrong again because he didn't want to stay in this place that hurt him. But it would make Winry cry if he left, so he had to do the right thing and not hurt someone else.

He hadn't used his voice since he tried to explain Al that he couldn't be without him, so he just pointed at some papers.

"So you want to come back to central with us?" There were no emotions in the voice that might influence his decision, just a plain question to make sure of it.

Edward's hand started shaking. Yes, that was what he wanted, but not what was right! He thought _all_ of those papers were for him to leave the military, why were there some for him to stay? He tried to shake his head or pull his fingers back, but it just wouldn't work.

"Look me in the eye."

He did, like he now always did what he was asked. Mustang stared into his eyes for a while, reading him while the colonel himself remained unreadable.

"I can't see fire in your eyes. But I need fire to work with. And this is no alchemical pun." Mustang gathered the papers Ed was still pointing his shaking finger at and stuffed them back in his briefcase. "You can come to sign those once you found your fire again. Until then I recommend you stay here.", he shoved the remaining papers in front of Ed.

Ed knew it was a test. The colonel wanted him to defend the decision he seemingly made, to fight for it, to _react_. And how he wanted to, but he _couldn't_ _!_ He had to do something right, at least once! So he signed the papers left on the table, signed his fate. He couldn't tell just how long everybody just sat there and stared at his signature on the paper, before those same hands that he had seen shoving documents over to him so often took the documents away from him.

"Your watch." Did the voice sound defeated? Did he care? No, he'd done the right thing.

The boy stood and went to get the silver thing. He fetched it from where Winry had put it on the unused desk in his room. He closed his hand around it. His thumb moved over the familiar surface. Should he open it one last time? The lid snapped open. He read the date, the warning. He felt the despair, because he _had_ forgotten. Had forgotten that Al was the one who was right when it came to things like these. And so Al had to pay a second time. Edward was stupid.

He closed the watch, clutched it so hard his knuckles went white. Then he relaxed. Mustang would take that thing away from him in a minute. And he would take with him all the memories. Edward would stay alive because Al wanted it and he would stay here so Winry wouldn't cry. And he'd forget about anything not necessary to full fill these tasks. He'd go numb so he'd bother no one to much, himself included. So he went downstairs again, sat onto the same spot on the couch again, and held out the silver memory. And Mustang took it away.

The Colonel stood and made to leave. "Good bye Edward." He looked into the boy's eyes one last time, then turned to the door. He didn't sound sad, just disappointed when he said: "I always hoped that I'd shake a flesh hand when I had to say this."

Ed waited for a while, but neither Pinako nor Winry seemed to want him to do something, so he retreated to his room. He sat on his bed and looked out of the window. In the distance could see Mustang walking away. A second blue clad figure was with him. Hawkeye. Had she been in the living room, too? He didn't know. All he could think about was that Hawkeye always was at the Colonel's site. Like Al used to be at his.

He buried himself in his mattress, forced the thoughts away. Not to kill himself and not make Winry cry, those were the only things he was allowed to ponder about from now on. Nothing else. His eyes went dull.


	2. A piece of the office

Winry and Pinako started to give him more chores and kept him permanently busy, but he realised that only dimly. If it made them happy when he worked, so be it. Lately though they stopped with it. They stopped permanently talking to him, too. He couldn't say what he thought about that. He just realised it on the edges of his conciousness. Maybe it was because his opinions outweighed one another. One side of him was happy that he could just stay in his room, and not interact to much with this hurtful place, the other side said that he should make Winry happy, and therefore maybe should respond to her somehow. It was a draw, so in the end he couldn't decide and just thought nothing.

Pinako called for him to come downstairs. He got up from his bed and did so. When he came to a stop in front of her she held out something he hadn't received in ages, it seemed. A letter.

"Seems like those dogs still want something from you.", she said.

Ed took the letter and went over to the couch. He sat down and just stared at it for a while. It looked official. It looked like it was from the military. Should he even bother to open it? But then, maybe it contained something that would end his right decision to stay here with the Rockbells if he didn't answer it. So he opened it up, awkwardly pulling at the envelope because he just didn't think about getting a paper knife. Finally he had the papers within free. They fell into his lap and he randomly grabbed one. It showed an array, a rather complex one. DO NOT ACTIVATE was written in thick red letters above it. _Read note_ , was added per hand in smaller letters. Note. That had to be the paper that looked not official at all and was stuffed between the array and a military file. He stared at the handwriting. It was without any unnecessary flourish but somehow still looked very elegant. It read:

> _You probably throw this away the second you see it's from the military but considering how much paper they waste on other useless documents every day I decided to try and send this letter anyway. The array I sent along was found on a very ugly crime scene. We're not sure about how much of the scene was caused by the array itself, so DON'T activate it. Neither myself nor any other state alchemist (or normal alchemist we've asked so far) has got a clue about where the array comes from, and what exactly it does. That's why we request your help. The military paper that's with this letter basically just tells you the same in official words and contains the thanks of the state, some information about how much money you can make with this, and other stuff the paper pushers think is important. We just hope you might be able to teach us old dogs something new._
> 
> _Hawkeye, Havoc, Breda, Falman and Fury currently yell at me to send you their greetings. They wish you the best._
> 
> _I wish you some fire._
> 
> _Sincerely,_
> 
> _Colonel Roy Mustang, Flame Alchemist, Bastard_

Edward stared at the words. They awakened memories he thought were gone, but obviously he hadn't deleted or buried them good enough. And surprisingly they didn't hurt so much. They were actually kind of fun. Four male subordinates, all very different but still the same when they acted like idiots. And they did that a lot. They would yell around and tell stupid stories and then the only woman in the team would yell around too, to get them back on the ground and to work. Afterwards she'd smile an almost invisible smile, showing she wasn't really angry. And the fifth male, the head of he chaos, would sit and watch, smirking, or occasionally actively participate in the madness. Those were the scenes Edward marched into when he entered the office without knocking. He'd start a new sort of yelling. Greetings. Then he'd march to the man who waited for his own special greeting. Only Ed could get away with calling him that. And now Ed could see why. The _Bastard_ had actually realised that he was called like that with some kind of affection. So he accepted it, even going so far as to give Ed permission, putting the word along with his name. What did that mean? What did the whole ending of the letter mean? Did they actually _miss_ him? He couldn't imagine that. He was just another dog after all, who only barged into their office for complaints and to receive a new mission or a lead.

It started to hurt again. He could feel that he was not supposed to be here in small, peaceful Resembool. This was the place he had reserved for the day when he had accomplished his goal and restored Al. And that office was the place where he'd always come back to until that day, the place where he'd get the leads, the place where everyone knew about his purpose and helped him. And he wanted to go back there, wanted a new purpose, because he was not supposed to live his life here in Resembool without having earned it.

But leaving Winry wasn't right. She wanted him here to look after him, so he'd stay. But it couldn't be too bad to think about that array and answer the letter, right? He was still here, he'd just grab onto a small piece of that office for a moment to ease the pain a bit.

So he took the paper with the array into both hands and allowed his mind to wander, to analyse, to remember, to do everything needed to find something helpful about an array like this. And it felt good. He even skimmed the description of the crime scene that the official document from the military held. After a while he was lying on his back, the paper with the array on his chest and arrays and books and references to ancient alchemists rushing around in his head. He dimly thought that he felt like an almost dry alcoholic who just got his hands on a glass of the finest liquor of the world.

Finally his brain uncovered some information, remembered some sentences and a picture in a book, ages old, but he had read it once because it was said to hold information about forming human flesh. It was an old array, related to human transmutation, maybe the reason why other alchemist didn't know about it. They were too afraid and too smart to get near human transmutation. Ed remembered the title and the author of the book, he needed paper and a pen to tell Mustang. So for the first time in a long time he went to use his desk.

He sat down, took a sheet of paper and his pen. He fumbled with the tip of it to make the dried up ink go away so it would write again. Finally, the ink started to wet his finger so he pulled away and held the pen above the paper. How should he write this? Just scribble down the information? Add some greetings? He couldn't write something personal, it felt wrong and nothing did happen around him anyway. Mustang didn't write an introduction like "Dear Edward" or stuff. Did he have the same problem as Ed? No, couldn't be, the colonel had a sharp tongue, it was unlikely for him to not find any words, right? He was probably just lazy. Ed regarded Mustang's writing next to his own, still empty paper. And somehow words managed to come to him.

> _Tell them thanks and my best wishes, too. You're a pyromaniac._
> 
> _And of course I can teach you OLD dogs._
> 
> _Sincerely,_
> 
> _Edward Elric, Fullmetal_

He knew he didn't own the title any more, but he also knew that Mustang would understand. So he set up an extra paper, wrote down the information and the reference to the book in a report like fashion and searched for an envelope. He wrote the addresses on it. He had no stamps, but he was sure Pinako did and got up to go find her. The old woman almost dropped her pipe when Edward asked her.

"Sure.", she said. "Of course I've got some stamps, just wait a second!" and she hurried away. Ed stayed where he was. He could feel Winry stare at him but he didn't know anything else to say so he just looked down at the letter in his hand and waited for her to say something. But she kept being quiet and thoughtful. Pinako came back and handed him the stamps. He nodded his thanks, licked the stamps to make them sticky and placed them on the envelope. Then he went to the post office.

People greeted him on his way. He always waved at them, giving them a small smile. He felt good enough to do that, the letter in his hand was reassuring.

Back in his room Ed thought about whether he would receive a respond. The military would pay some money. Maybe they would send another official document, too. But would he receive another note from Mustang? He couldn't deny that he hoped for it. Just one sentence would be enough, it didn't even need to be a "thank you", just something that told him that he had managed to do the task right. Not because he wanted praise but because selfish him just needed a bit reassurance that he wasn't a complete failure, that there was still something he could do without causing something bad. He pulled at his hair, knowing that he didn't deserve such reassurance, but still. He couldn't help but want it.

* * *

Ed had managed to force all his feelings down again until a few days later Pinako called for him to come down to the living room, there was another letter. He made his way downstairs faster and with more energy than Winry and Pinako had seen from him for quite a long time. The envelope Pinako passed on to him looked just like the last and he pried it open on the spot. The thick military document was ignored, it fell to the ground when he pulled out the second sheet of paper. He unfolded it and sure enough there was the note in Mustang's handwriting.

 

> _They almost started a party when they heard you greeted them back. You made them really happy. I see you stressed the word_ old _. Well, let me stress that I am still_ not even thirty _! Despite that, I have to say, I appreciated the surprise of your letter in my morning mail. It seems that short things make my day better, be it your note or you in person. I don't know if you really rant about not being short when you read that but my day so far was quite boring so for my entertainment I'll just imagine you do. Otherwise I/we just wanted to say thank you for helping out._
> 
> _Sincerely,_
> 
> _Colonel Roy Mustang, Flame Alchemist, not a pyromaniac_

Ed could hear the colonel's voice in his head. Could hear the smooth, deep voice speaking the words on the paper, could even hear it screech a little when it came to his age, or almost purr in amusement when it told the short joke line. He could imagine how and what he would have retorted to the colonel's words, could feel a slight twitch that told him to really yell and wave the letter in an angry way, whilst he complained about the Bastard calling him small again.

But he couldn't do that. He couldn't just send a letter, a _real letter_ back to Mustang. He just wasn't close enough to the colonel to do such thing. And he couldn't just leave Resembool to scream at him in person either. That's why he put the letter to the other one in his desk drawer, thanked whatever higher force that might be there, even though he didn't believe in it, for the wonderful reassurance and the small potion of peace for his mind and then proceeded to forget.


	3. Get back the silver memory

Edward trudged down the stairs and sat on the couch where Winry and Pinako were already waiting for him. He had a faint feeling that whatever they wanted today was a bit more important than the usual reasons they asked him to come downstairs for. They looked at him with serious faces and finally Pinako started to speak:

"Edward, I thought that with time you might get back on your feet on your own but it does seem like you are determined to stay like you are. I thought that Colonel person would be able to get you going again but I now see that I was wrong in thinking that he could do it alone. He can only work if there is something for him to work with, so Winry and me decided, that we will give you both a nudge in the right direction."

"We noticed that you came out of your shell a bit when those letters arrived, especially the last.", Winry continued for her grandmother. "And well...it made us think that maybe you want and need to go back to Central."

Edward stared at her. Oh _great,_ they discovered his dilemma, now Winry would cry! He shook his head frantically to prevent that from happening. Winry sighed. "Ed, I can see you're lying."

"Don't...Don't want you to cry.", Edward forced himself to admit.

"Edward, I won't cry if you leave.", she said with a small smile.

Edward swallowed hard and looked down at his feet. They wanted him to leave, had he done something wrong? He thought he had behaved well, he had done all chores, never complained, never caused trouble. Winry seemed to sense his thought process because she came over and sat down next to him.

"I will be sad and I'll miss you, but I won't cry because I know that it'll make you feel better if you go. And you can always come back if you want to but don't come here just for my sake." She leaned over and hugged him. "I want you to be happy just as much as you want me to be happy. So if you need to go to Central it is okay."

Ed wrapped his arms around her too and pulled her close. " 'M sorry.", he mumbled into her shoulder.

"Don't be.", she smiled a little and leaned back to face him. "So will you go?"

He pressed his lips into a thin line but nodded.

* * *

Resembool is a quite unimportant place in the view of an average Amestrian, so the train that connected it to Central City didn't arrive every day. Ed would have to wait until the morning of the day after tomorrow to board it. But that was quite all right. Winry used most of the day he had to waste waiting to tinker with his automail, making sure it was in the best shape possible and every mechanism in it was updated. Afterwards he started packing.

Most of his clothes were just another version of his black pants, black top, black jacket look. Once he had these in the suitcase he added the few pyjamas he owned, mostly consisting of some shorts and some plain white t-shirts. Socks and boxershorts followed. He would grab his toiletries in the morning after getting ready. But there was still some unoccupied space in the suitcase that he kept staring at, not sure what to do about it. Usually it would contain some books and the few personal items he and Al had allowed themselves to keep along. But there were no books at the moment. And without Al there was no stuff for Al to pack. Somehow Edward felt like the suitcase. Like there was some empty space inside of him that used to be filled with something but would have to remain empty from now on.

He looked away, across the room. There was his old journal on the desk. It was the only personal item Edward thought might be good to take with him. It contained so much information, it would be helpful if he regained his job. He had coded it to look like a simple diary about his journey with Al, that might be hurtful to look at, but most of the stories were altered to fit the code so it would be bearable. He snatched the journal and stopped, thinking. Then he pulled the desk drawer open and gathered the two notes from Mustang. He carefully folded them twice to make them the right size, then he put them between the last page he had written on and the next one that was still empty, waiting for him to scribble on it. Finally he put the journal in the suitcase. It didn't fill very much of the empty space but it made it better, nonetheless.

* * *

After shaking the dust out of his red coat, putting it on and saying good bye to Winry and Pinako with a hug, Ed started on his way. He still didn't like to speak up but he managed to say "Central", when he bought his ticket. The man in the ticket booth looked a little bit confused because he was used to a more cheerful Edward but luckily he decided not to pry into Edward's business and just handed over the ticket. Finally, he boarded the train.

He tried to sleep, but it didn't work. His sleeping pattern had consisted of dropping onto his bed from exhaustion every second night for quite a while now. It wasn't that he didn't try to sleep, it just wouldn't work because either his stupid brain refused to back down, and therefore made him think about everything he managed to push away during the day, or he had a nightmare.

After an hour of unsuccessfully trying to fall asleep he settled to watching the passing scenery. It was boring and mind numbing because he had been on that train enough times to know the fleeting landscape quite well, but then it was his goal to keep his thoughts dull. Otherwise he would remember how many times he and Al had used the time on the train to talk or play a game of cards.

After what seemed like forever his dull eyes registered the platform of Central City Train Station behind the window. He jumped up and gathered his luggage to get off the train. Once on the platform he just stood there for a while. Finally he decided that it would be best to go to Central HQ right now. There wasn't much time left before the workday there ended, but he could make it. So he started walking, ignoring red traffic lights and such things, only coming to a stop in front of the gates of the military headquarters. The guards waved at him and let him pass. It felt funny that they still knew him, even after such a long time. Though how long had it really been? Ed didn't know. He was also slightly amazed that his feet found the way to that particular office without him actively leading them. He stared down at them, watched them as they walked him to his goal. And then there was the door. Dark, sturdy, a messing plate that read _Colonel Mustang_ and a dent where Ed used to kick it open. Today Edward used the handle.

His entrance was quiet enough that the office's occupants actually didn't realise it. But Ed didn't mind. He just watched them with a small grin as they proceeded to act like the funny guys they were when there was no reason to act serious. Currently Breda and Havoc seemed to be engaged in a contest about who would blink first, leaving them staring at each other with wide eyes and a twisted face. Considering that Fury was watching them with a stopwatch in his hands they also seemed to try for a new record. Falman was holding their infamous _book of bets_ and from time to time read out whose records they had already broken. The contest was successfully ruined when Hawkeye came out of Mustang's inner office. The four men jumped and tried to find an excuse why they weren't working. When they realised that Hawkeye wasn't looking at them they turned to find out what she was smiling at and jumped again when they saw Ed standing there.

"Boss!", Havoc finally yelled, sounding surprised but happy.

"Found your way back here?", Breda asked, grinning.

"It's nice to see you again!", Fuery piped up.

"I agree with Sergeant Fuery.", Falman said.

"I guess you want to see the colonel?", Haweye asked, still smiling.

Ed nodded and made his way over to the door. He took a deep breath. He could tell that the others waited for him to kick the door but once again he chose to slip in fast and silent. He didn't want to annoy Mustang right away, the colonel might decide that he didn't want Ed in his team again if he did so. The Flame Alchemist sat behind his desk, staring at a paper in his hand with a rather bored expression whilst his other hand supported his head. After a minute or so he put the paper down, sighed and scribbled his signature before he put the paper on top of the smaller of the two piles on his desk. Then he reached for one of his desk drawers and pulled out some other paper. He laid that paper on his desk like he was presenting it to Ed. And a second later he looked up with a smirk, revealing that he actually did so. "Came to sign those?", he asked.

For a second Edward felt the urge to say something sarcastic but he thought better of it and instead walked over to grab Mustang's discarded pen and the papers. The colonel reached out and placed his hand over the space where Ed was about to sign, effectively stopping him. Ed's eyes shot up. He new he looked pathetic with the fear that showed in his eyes but he couldn't stop it from showing fast enough. He swallowed, staring at Mustang with pleading eyes. He needed to sign this, or he'd end up hurt in Resembool again. Mustang blinked and actually looked shocked for a brief second, but then he slowly moved his hand away. "Well, at least there's a spark." he murmured.

Ed quickly signed the paper. He put Mustang's pen back in the place on the wooden surface where he had taken it from and then stood awkwardly in front of the desk. He felt relieved because he had his place in Mustang's team back but he didn't know what to do now. The colonel picked up the paper and put it back into the drawer. Before he closed it again he pulled something else out of it. He pushed it over the desk and Ed caught it. It was a silver pocket watch.

"It's your old one. You can choose if you want to keep it. If not I'll put in a request for a new one. You don't need to choose now."

Every one else might have sounded pitying and/or might have started to give a speech about how sorry he was about what had happened on the date that was etched inside the watch, but Mustang didn't. And Ed was grateful for it. He nodded, the corners of his mouth lifting ever so slightly, and put the watch into his pocket. It fit there very well. Maybe the cloth of his pants remembered the bump the watch caused there.

The colonel thoughtfully regarded the papers on his desk for a while, causing Ed to feel awkward again. "I don't have a mission for you right now.", he finally admitted. "But you can come to the office and help us with our normal work until I get some assignment that fits. If you don't have any important research, that is." Mustang raised his eyebrows in question. Edward hung his head. Without Al there was no research to put above military stuff. He missed Mustang's pointed glance at his automail arm.

"Well, if you don't say whatever you think aloud, I guess I'll have to wait until tomorrow to find out what you'll do." the colonel paused, giving Ed the chance to speak up, but the boy was busy with stopping his brain from thinking about how he failed with the original goal that lead him into Mustang's office. _Numb, go numb,_ he told himself. _Don't think about that there is no Al waiting in the outer office for you to come back with a new lead on the stone._ Deep in his thoughts he must have turned to face the door because he found himself staring at it when Mustang's gentle "You may go.", brought him back to reality.

He turned to face the colonel but then ducked his head, ashamed that he had spaced out like that. It was his intention to stay numb and not think too much about the world, not to make those few who in some way cared about him think that he'd gone crazy and lost his brains somewhere. He would disappoint Winry and he'd end up in Resembool again if he was thrown out of the military because they thought he had some mental issues. So he nodded once and made his way to the door.

"So, you got your job back?", Havoc asked excitedly when the boy closed Mustang's door behind him. Ed patted the watch in his pocket and smiled a little.

"Congratulations.", Breda said. Fury and Falman nodded happily.

"Will we see you tomorrow?", Hawkeye asked. Her tone was uncharacteristically gentle but not that horrible _I-think-you're-made-of-glass-and-I-am-afraid-I-might-shatter-you_ -tone. Edward shrugged a little.

"All right, decide whenever you want to. We start here at eight."

Edward nodded and waved good bye before he left.

He trudged down the stairs in front of HQ and found himself at a loss. What was he supposed to do now, where was he supposed to go? There was a bench not far away, at the edge of the decorative lawn that was supposed to make the place look friendlier and less like a fortress. He went over, sat on it and put his suitcase, which he subconsciously remembered to drag along, next to his feet. Watching the sun prepare to vanish for the night he tried to think. Unfortunately his sleeping pattern decided to interrupt his thoughts about what to do next and he closed his eyes not five minutes later. When the sun was down and the first officers left HQ to go home, Fullmetal was asleep.


	4. A new day

Edward stirred and finally slowly opened his eyes. He wasn't very happy that he had to emerge from the depths of his for once dreamless sleep. Though he figured that, since sleep was only the recovery modus of the human body, it was only natural that his body wouldn't stay in peaceful slumber longer than necessary. After all, a body was made to move and work because how else was it supposed to get its nutrition and things? Screw evolution for making human bodies too complicated to live from sleep alone. It would have made living on much easier for Ed if he could just sleep away the days.

He sighed and made to sit up, but stopped. During his thoughts he had stared at the ceiling above him but now he remembered that before he closed his eyes to sleep he had been staring at the sinking sun. He frowned in confusion. How did that change of scenery happen? He stared at the ceiling some more.

It was familiar in some way but on the other hand he had never seen it before. Maybe he should survey the rest of the room for answers. He turned his head and looked over the plain room. There were two small closets and another, empty and neatly made, bed and a desk in the corner. Now he knew why even the ceiling had looked familiar, even though he had never been in this room before. Military dorms had this tendency too look all completely the same.

So he was in a dorm. Nothing wrong with that, he would have most likely chosen to stay here anyway now that he was in Central again. The only question that still remained was: How did he get here? Ed scrutinised the place once more.

There was his suitcase in front of one of the closets. His red coat was draped over the chair by the desk, together with his black jacket. He leaned over the edge of his bed and looked down. There were his boots, ready for him to slip them on again. Leaning back again he lifted the blanket and looked himself over. Whoever had taken his coat, jacket, and boots off had not dared to remove more and put him in his pyjamas because he was still in his black pants and his black top. He decided that he appreciated this.

Finally the boy moved out of the bed. He ignored his boots and shuffled over to the desk in only his socks. There was something gleaming on the surface. His hand subconsciously wandered down to check his pocket, though he knew from the small scratches and dents, and other traces of the rough life the watch was forced to endure, that it was indeed his.

So Ed grabbed the watch to put it back into his pocket when he realised that someone had used the silver thing as a paperweight. A small, folded piece of paper was clamped below the watch. Blinking in surprise he stuffed the watch into his pocket and then carefully unfolded the paper. The penmanship was familiar and he blinked once more in surprise before he read:

> _There are many people who like to decorate their front yards with garden gnomes. The military is not included. Therefore we would appreciate it if you sleep somewhere else, for example in this dorm room, that is now booked for you. The key is in your coat pocket._
> 
> _Sincerely,_
> 
> _Colonel Roy Mustang, Flame Alchemist, not your secretary_

Edward stared open mouthed at the note. _Mustang_ had brought him over here? That was...strange. The colonel was the last person he would have thought to do something like this. Ed would have expected him to wake him up. Speaking, poking, yelling, dumping water on him, or maybe even burn his coat, if nothing else helped. He checked his coat, but it didn't look like it had been abused with flames or water. Either Mustang had tried to wake him half-heartedly or not at all before he chose to bring Ed to the dorms.

At least the note held a short joke, otherwise Ed would have feared for Mustang's mental health.

Edward finally chose not to think about the whole thing too much. It would never happen again, so there was no use in trying to analyse why it somehow made him feel better. He should really just hope that it would never come up again because Mustang had a tendency to laugh about him already and he shouldn't appear like he was a helpless kid that couldn't find a place to sleep alone, when he was determined to stay with the military. So forget, pray that the others do so too, and live on.

At last Edward opened his watch to find out what time it was. He had slept in so far, it was nearly lunch time. That meant he was late to the office. If he chose to go. They left the option open for him, so he hoped they wouldn't mind if he was late.

His gaze fell on the date, engraved in the lit of the watch. He really hoped they wouldn't mind if he was late, because he was going to need some more time today. For the first time after what seemed like ages, he clapped his hands and transmuted the tip of his metal index finger into something pointy. Then he set to work, adding a new date to the old one.

* * *

He arrived at the office just when the Colonel and his men, and woman, came back from their lunch break. He smiled when they greeted him cheerfully and went beet red when Mustang called:

"Morning, sleeping beauty!"

The colonel smirked a little but it didn't seem very vicious, and since he didn't say anything else Ed hoped that the incident would be forgotten. To be sure that he didn't make himself a target he kept his head down until Mustang vanished in his inner office.

The others sat at their desks and Edward stood there a little awkwardly until Hawkeye immediately came to save him. She placed him at the remaining desk and put some files on it. Edward didn't posses the military knowledge that was required for most files, but Hawkeye gave him the task of summarising reports from other soldiers. The Lieutenant told him that she was really happy that he helped them out, because if Ed summarised the reports then the others could file, sign and whatever else they needed to do with them, much faster than when they had to read them whole, meaning they wouldn't have to work extra hours. It seemed that today one of those phases when they were practically swamped with paper work had started.

"Why can't they balance the work so it is the same amount every time? I mean yesterday we got almost nothing and today they try to drown us with this crap!", Havoc complained as he scribbled away on his paper.

"I bet they are just too lazy to pass the files on immediately when they get them and collect them in a big box, which they only bring over when it is full.", Breda mused in a bad mood.

"As far as I know, this is indeed the common management technique." Falman grumbled, for once not so stoic as usual.

"Put that on the _to-be-changed-when-Mustang-is-Führer-_ list.", was the answer.

They bickered some more and from time to time tried to engage Edward in their complain-marathon, but Ed was happy with just grinning at them and raising his eyebrows whenever they said something particular stupid.

An hour later Mustang came out of his inner office, complaining that he needed some distraction or he'd fall asleep on his papers. So he dumped his work on his smaller desk in this office and took part in the conversation, throwing in a witty comment every now and then.

Ed listened to them whilst he worked and couldn't help but feel content. He knew they missed Alphonse too, he could see it in the way they had opened their mouth to, almost instinctively, ask where he was when Ed came in to work, before realisation hit them and they covered it up fast. But unlike Winry or Pinako they didn't dwell on it or tried to push it down forcefully. Maybe it was because they hadn't known Alphonse that well and therefore didn't miss him as much, something Ed could understand and wasn't angry about. But he knew it wasn't just that.

As stupid as it might sound, Edward had the feeling that, unlike civilians like Winry and Pinako, those soldiers had accepted the fact that life could be ended and people could be gone very fast, much better. They had a dangerous job, even more dangerous than the average soldier maybe, considering that they supported Mustang in becoming Führer, a dream that sometimes resulted in dangerous undercover missions. Some of them had even killed already and therefore knew first hand how little it takes to end a life. That's why they had learned to go on, to live on, much better than every one else.

And that's why Edward appreciated their company. They could be happy and cheerful around him and he knew they weren't so because they didn't care that Al was gone. They did it because they knew how to go on and wanted to teach him. One more reason he felt much better here in the office than in Resembool; The soldiers around him didn't infect him with their sadness all over again whenever he managed to overcome his own.

So he worked on on his files, the corners of his mouth lifted into a tiny, but nonetheless existing smile.


	5. Of sleep and leads

Around 5:30pm Havoc, Falman, Breda and Fuery got ready to leave for home. They thanked Edward very much because they were only able to do so because he helped them out. Edward grinned and blushed a little and shrugged in a "think nothing about it" way when they praised him to the heavens.

"You know, you are free to go, too. You did enough today and there's nothing you could help the Colonel with, 'cause he gets the more complex reports that you need to read whole to understand.", Havoc explained as he grabbed his things.

Edward nodded in understanding. Mustang had retreated to his inner office again some time ago, indicating that he didn't want to be disturbed. He was a little grumpy when they interrupted his train of thought to say good bye for the day. The others didn't seem to mind their commander's mood, though. It seemed that this behaviour was normal for the Colonel would stay at least an hour longer than they did almost every day. On some days because he procrastinated so much that he had to do all of his paperwork now in a hurry, on other days, like today, it was because he simply had more work to do from the beginning. Hawkeye usually stayed with him, to make sure he didn't burn the papers.

So they left headquarters and wished the others a nice evening when they separated to walk to their destinations. In Edward's case the dorms. The young alchemist walked into his room, kicked off his boots, and tossed his coat on the chair by the desk. Then he sat on his bed.

He could feel all the little bits of good feelings he had managed to collect during the day vanish. The room was quiet and he was alone, no chattering soldiers around him and nothing to do. Maybe he should walk to the library and get a book to read? But then what kind of book? Those about human transmutation or the Philosopher's Stone held no value for him any more.

Maybe he should try and sleep. Edward snorted at the thought. He knew that tonight he wouldn't get an eye shut. He had slept during the last night so his body would manage to stay up for the next 24 hours and his restless brain would make sure that it did so. With a shudder he pulled his legs up to his chest. He hated to know that he would start thinking soon. With nothing else to do and a whole, lonely night in front of him every thought he usually managed to push away would come up again, because his treacherous brain just couldn't forget on command. Sighing, Ed wrapped his arms around his legs and rested his chin on his knees. There was only one thing he could do now to save himself from the pain.

His breathing slowed, his eyes went dull and he stared blankly at the white wall in front of him, thinking about nothing but how many different shades of grey that wall could be when the daylight falling in through the small window lessened and then became more again. If he thought about that at all. Maybe he just dimly recognised it. He didn't know, he was numb again.

When the daylight had reached the level of dawn again he flicked open the lid of his pocket watch and watched the seconds tick by until he had to get ready to work. He felt relieve when he finally walked up the stairs to Central Command.

* * *

Mustang and Hawkeye were late. If only Mustang had slept in there wouldn't be any reason for worry but if Hawkeye was late too, then something must have happened. So when the two finally walked into the office the others immediately analysed their faces and posture, trying to find out what it was. They both looked grim and slightly pissed.

"Not again! Did that pig kill another one?", Havoc finally asked.

"Yes, they called us around four, some MP found the mess.", Mustang answered, his eyes narrowed in disgust. Though he was obviously less disgusted with the dead body than with the guy who did it.

"Any clues?", Bread wanted to know.

"No, nothing but the circle, again. And the victims still seem random." The colonel turned to Ed. "Though, thanks to Fullmetal here, we do have a lead in another way."

Edward blinked at the colonel, slightly confused. He had no idea what was going on and where he had helped. He watched as Mustang stepped between his and Havoc's chair and pushed some papers on their desks out of the way. He then flicked through the small folder he had tucked under his arm when he came in and finally laid one of the pages in the cleared up space for them to look at.

"You remember the array I send to you when you were in Resembool?", the colonel asked Ed. Edward nodded quickly. How could he forget those letters? He stopped the smile that threatened to climb on his face with the memory. This was not a situation to smile.

"Well, it turned out that there is only one known copy of the book you said it was from because it is less of a book and more of a handwritten journal. And it is not available for the average person or alchemist. It is part of the restricted materials the military owns. Even state alchemists can't just read it. You had to go through quite the procedure to get your hands on it, right Fullmetal?"

Edward thought about it. Yes he remembered, he had to go and get a lot of forms and those had to be signed by Mustang first, who then had to pass it on to the Führer before it was completely approved.

"Judging by your face, you _do_ remember.", Mustang said with a smirk but he became serious again as he went on. "Well, the reason why you need your commanding officer's signature is that because of the dangerous contents of that book your commanding officer is supposed to do a security check on you and search all data and his own knowledge about you for the reason why you would want those informations. Only if he can't find a reason for you to use that knowledge for an attempt at human transmutation and deems it safe to trust you with that book the Führer can be bothered to give the final permission. This, and the fact that you will be put on an unofficial kind of black list that contains alchemists who are to be watched closely in case they loose someone, scares most alchemists away. Which leaves us with a rather small list of people who borrowed the book during the last five years. And also with the sad knowledge that the murderer is probably one of our own."

"So it's most likely one of those guys?", Breda murmured thoughtfully as they all leaned forward to read the list. "Well at least there are only six people on the list."

Ed read the names. He had heard them all before once, because they were state alchemists, but he knew nothing about them. Well except for the name of the person who borrowed the book last.

"I guess we can cross Fullmetal out.", Mustang said and took Havoc's pen. "And this one has been killed by Scar." he crossed out another name. His hand hovered over the name of the man who had the book first. The Fullmetal Alchemist watched as the colonel narrowed his eyes in thought.

"Sir?", asked Hawkeye, who could read Mustang best. The colonel emerged out of his thought process and seemed to remember that not everyone could follow his train of thoughts like the lieutenant did.

"That one graduated with me. He became a state alchemist in the same year as I did. Though, as far as I know, he's stuck in a mental ward now.", he explained.

"Well, you _have_ to be crazy to make such a mess out of people.", Breda said.

"But it's wrong to immediately blame him, you don't know what his problem is!", Fuery with his kind heart protested.

"I think he's there for bad depression and constantly trying to kill him self.", Mustang remembered with a frown.

"In that case I guess he would be under strict surveillance and couldn't do things like this.", Falman said.

"I'll visit him and have a look.", Mustang announced and circled the name. "There's nothing else to do right now anyway, the guys from Investigation still need to find the others on the list."

"With all due respect, sir, considering the reason why this man has been committed to the mental ward, I don't think it is a good idea for you to talk to him.", Hawkeye said.

The colonel and the lieutenant stared at each other for a while, talking through looks none of the others could decipher.

"Fine, I'll have someone from Investigations check him for now. _But_ I will go there myself if something comes up.", Mustang finally gave in.

Hawkeye nodded. "Yes, sir."

"Good. Now that you're all updated, go back to work!" With that Mustang recollected the file and went into his inner office.

"Ugh, can't we start lunch five minutes early?", Bread whined.

* * *

After lunch they had been back to their normal working atmosphere and Ed had happily scribbled on his papers. He even felt a little more cheerful than yesterday because he knew that his knowledge about the book and the array were helpful in this murder case. Though during the last five minutes of work time he started to feel uneasy. He needed a moment to understand that he was nervous. Nervous because of the knowledge that he once again had no idea what to do with himself after work. He thought about staying here until Mustang and Hawkeye were ready to go, too.

Those two had a lot of work to catch on to because they had to be at the crime scene in the morning. They would surely stay very long. But then he remembered that Havoc said here was no way for him to help them and if he would just stay for the sake of staying Mustang surely would get angry and annoyed. The colonel had barely left his inner office today and he had been rather grumpy and sleep deprived during lunch, so Ed figured that the man wouldn't want to be disturbed during his work and therefore would not appreciate Ed's presence in his office any longer than necessary. So he walked back to the dorms at a pace that would allow a slug to get ahead of him.

Tonight he should be exhausted enough to sleep, though when he laid there on his bed he still felt he couldn't, no matter how much his body craved it. His eyes flickered across the dark room. These dorm rooms were usually made for two and even though he was glad that Mustang probably arranged that no stranger would be put in here with him, he still couldn't help but feel alone.

The last time he had checked in in a dorm room Al had still been with him. His brother couldn't sleep, but he would still sit or lie down on the other bed and talk to Ed until Ed was too tired to stay awake and started to fall asleep. Then he would grab a book and Ed would fully fall asleep to the sound of pages turning and metal creaking softly when Al moved.

Now though the other bed was empty and the room quiet. And it hurt Ed because he knew it was his fault. And it made him desperate because he had a feeling that even if he changed the dorm room or moved into a hotel this painful guilt wouldn't stay at bay because all of this rooms looked so similar, none of them would allow him to stay in peace.

The young alchemist buried his head in his pillow and grabbed his blanket tightly. He couldn't breath right like this, but then he was trying not to sob so it was all right. He hated this helpless feeling, he wouldn't let it overcome him, he'd suffocate in his pillow before he'd let it...no he wouldn't, if he suffocated he'd kill himself and that was no option because Al had told him to live on. So Ed lifted his head and breathed deeply. His head hurt now yet he didn't mind, feeling he deserved it and welcoming the distraction from all the other pain.

Though ultimately his hectic breathing reminded him once again that there was no other sound in the room, so he tried to breath slower since it suddenly seemed too loud. Finally, he was lying still. But that only allowed him to hear the faint ticking of his pocket watch, reminding him that this night wasn't over yet and that he would still have to endure falling asleep and waking up from a nightmare before he could go back to the office again. Ed tensed, waiting in fear for that to happen. Yet he waited so hard that in the end it kept him awake until the sun was up again. With a wry smile he got out of bed, showered the cold sweat away, made himself look as normal as possible, and then almost ran to HQ.


	6. Like a hobo

Ed had felt the concerned looks from the others more than he had seen them. He hoped they wouldn't start to treat him like a piece of glass or something. They luckily didn't. Instead, they actively allowed him to catch them staring once and raised their eyebrows questioningly when they had his attention. Ed couldn't help but gratefully smile at that because this way they let him know that they cared and would listen if he chose to talk to them, without prying into his business too much. They didn't bother him with annoying questions and they didn't speak those pitiful standard phrases like "How do you feel?" or "Do you want to talk?"or "everything will be better one day". And what was the best was that none of them claimed to know how he felt. They just simply stated the fact that they didn't like him to feel bad and were there to help the best they could, if he let them. When after a second of smiling his thanks for their questioning looks he shook his head though, telling them that he wasn't ready yet, they nodded once in acceptance and went back to work, treating him like they always had. Yet that didn't meant their concern vanished. He could still see them looking at him from the corner of their eyes sometimes, but that didn't bother him. He appreciated that they cared about him in their own subtle ways, without rushing him, without pestering him, but ready to be there none the less.

Though it startled him when even Mustang showed this behaviour. The colonel was a lot more careful about getting caught looking at him, but Ed saw it twice. That's why he could tell that the third time, when he managed to capture and hold Mustangs stare, it was fully the colonel's intention to let himself be caught looking.

Mustang raised only one eyebrow, adding his own, slightly mocking touch to the question. Though it was obvious to Edward that he not actually intended to mock him. It was a safety line, for both of them, because neither the colonel nor Ed were used to act openly concerned for one another. So Mustang acknowledged Edward's seemingly dislike towards him, and also maintained a bit of the professional relationship they were supposed to have as subordinate and commanding officer, by simply leaving them this escape route into the less serious fields of bickering, if they felt they were getting too personal.

Edward thought about what he should do now. Take the escape? Nod a thanks and then shake his head, too? Or actually speak up and tell the colonel what was bothering him? Mustang had been nice enough to book him a dorm, bring him there, and never remind him of that again, apart from a note and the greeting when he finally showed up to work. But did that mean that he was willing to handle the much bigger problems that Ed would bring with him? Or was he just doing what he thought seemed right and wasn't _really_ interested, just wanting his dog to function properly again? It was always so hard to tell with that man. Edward was pretty sure that Mustang was able to control his face perfectly enough to look like he wanted to look almost always. So how much could he trust the colonel?

The boy bit his lip, then chose to try it a bit. He wouldn't speak up, but he wouldn't take the escape route either. So he smiled a small thanks, then shook his head, like he did for the others. Mustang's second eyebrow rose up too, allowing Ed a second to rethink his choice. But when Ed just looked at the colonel without any indication that he changed his mind, Mustang nodded his head once, accepting Ed's decision. The young alchemist wasn't sure, but he could have sworn that for a millisecond Mustang smiled, like he was grateful that Ed didn't reject his concern and took the escape route. But when he blinked the colonel looked like he had never lifted his head from his paperwork to begin with. So Edward wasn't sure, but he liked to think he was.

* * *

When they neared the end of the workday Ed felt like his head would hit the table any second. He was barely able to hold his eyes open but he didn't want to fall a sleep know, he still had some work to do. He jumped when someone carefully took the pen from his hand.

"The Chief has allowed for you to go home early. Says, _if that paperwork makes you this tired then you should take a break now, before it bores you to death by tomorrow_.", Havoc tried to imitate the colonel's voice with a wry grin.

Ed blinked in surprise, then looked over at Mustang who looked far too engrossed in the paper he was currently reading. He knew for a fact that the man had exceptional hearing when it came to sentences that included him so there was no way he could have missed this. But the colonel stubbornly stared at his paper, acting as if they all weren't even there.

Edward looked back to Havoc, who grinned a lot brighter now and shrugged.

"You should take the offer, it's one you get once in a lifetime!", Breda exaggerated with a wink.

Ed looked down at his files, contemplating. He knew that if he worked on in this state then he'd do crappy work. And if he did crappy work then he could lose his place here, something he really didn't want to. So he shoved the files he still had to do a little to the side and kept only the one he had just been working on in front of him. Finally, he held out his hand for his pen and Havoc, understanding that Ed only wanted to finish the half ready thing, let him have it back. Edward finished the file up, suppressed a yawn and grabbed his things. He waved his good bye to the others, daring himself to give a small smile to Mustang, and left.

The air outside was slightly colder, waking him enough to make him think about the dorm room that was waiting for him. Funny. This morning he had practically run from it because he couldn't sleep there and now he had to crawl back earlier because he just _needed_ _to sleep_. He walked down the stairs, his gaze sweeping aimlessly over the place while he did so. He stopped when his eyes fell onto the bench he had fallen asleep on at the first day back here.

Ed wondered. Where would he end up if he fell asleep there again? Would Mustang bring him somewhere again, or would he just burn him, this time? The boy hadn't even realised that he had walked over there until he felt himself sit down. He thought about standing up again and walking away, but he couldn't bring himself to do so. His sleep deprived mind wanted an answer to his questions no matter how stupid this experiment was. So he closed his eyes.

* * *

Edward woke to the ceiling of the dorm and a note underneath his pocket watch, again. So he wouldn't end up in a better place when he closed his eyes long enough. Well, at least that knowledge made it easier not to slit his wrists. Or wrist, singular. Metal couldn't bleed, he remembered sadly. He read the lines:

> _Dear sleeping beauty,_
> 
> _if you want to be kissed awake, go sleep in a place full of girls. They would certainly do better than a lick over the face from a military dog. Seriously, they where betting on which one of them would dare to do so._
> 
> _Anyway, the best place to sleep is still a bed so I recommend you use yours from now on._
> 
> _Sincerely,_
> 
> _Colonel Roy Mustang, Flame Alchemist, very tempted to let them lick you if you make him carry you again_

* * *

Ed tried to use his bed, he really did. But he just couldn't sleep! He would lay there, sweating and clutching his sheets, tensing whenever a bad thought came near his conciousness. He would nod off, after hours of praying that he did, only to be jolted awake by a nightmare again five minutes later. During the day he would feel well, as well as someone without sleep could, enjoying work, feeling warm from the other's concern, but at night he was a wreck. And that's why three days later he couldn't help but end up on that bench once again. It was pathetic and stupid but his messed up brain held the hope that maybe one day he would wake up somewhere nice.

But he woke to the ceiling of the dorm and a note, causing a pattern, causing a vicious circle.

Stay awake for two nights.

Fall a sleep on the bench.

Wake up in the dorm.

> _If you don't like your bed like it is maybe try to transmute it until it fits. Just don't let the janitor see it. They hate it if you transmute furniture in 'their' buildings._
> 
> _Sincerely,_
> 
> _Colonel Roy Mustang, Flame Alchemist, no time to think about something witty, got a date_

Be glad that Mustang still cared enough to not just leave him on the bench for the night.

Work.

Stay awake for two nights.

Fall a sleep on the bench.

Wake up in the dorm.

> _I know that corpulent people are said to look shorter than they are but getting thinner won't make you look taller, so start eating again! A well balanced nutrition will make you taller much more likely._
> 
> _Sincerely,_
> 
> _Colonel Roy Mustang, Flame Alchemist, could carry a few more pounds without a problem_

Be glad that Mustang still cared enough to not just leave him on the bench for the night.

Work.

Stay awake for two nights.

Fall a sleep on the bench.

Wake up in the dorm.

> _I know I said I could carry a few more pounds, but that was no invitation to test me by sleeping on that bench yet again. Besides, you didn't gain those pounds._
> 
> _Otherwise I would like to inform you that I will not let you continue your sleep-on-the-bench-game. I don't like the rumours that are coming up and I don't like getting head aches from thinking too hard about just what makes you do this and what I could do to help. So either you come tell me on your own, or I'll have to force you to speak to me. You have two nights._
> 
> _Sincerely,_
> 
> _Colonel Roy Mustang, Flame Alchemist_

No addition to the name. Mustang was serious. Ed pulled at his hair in frustration and paced back and forth in the hated room.

He did this because he hoped that maybe one morning he'd wake up somewhere else! But that was such a stupid, illogical, and childish reason and besides: Where else should the colonel have brought him? For Mustang the dorms were a logical and perfectly acceptable place for Edward to stay at. Why should he think of anything else when Ed himself didn't even know what place would make him feel better? The dorms were bad, the hotels here were bad too and the Hughes' place was even worse because there he would remember another person he'd lost.

To sum it up: Ed was a hopeless case and he hated himself for being this complicated.

He let himself fall to the floor and curled up into a fetal position. Just what should he do now? Mustang would put an end to his only way to sleep safely. Should he tell his reasons, should he allow the colonel to help him find another way? Or should he risk sleeping somewhere under a bridge like a hobo?

Edward decided that he would think about this after work. He would not waste those precious hours, of what was his closest attempt at happiness, to think about things he could think about at night because they would keep him up anyway.


	7. Colonel in the basement

Edward managed to get into the office seemingly unnoticed by the colonel. Though when Mustang left for his private office he gave Edward a pointed look, indicating that he meant what he said in his letter and was waiting for Ed to talk. The young alchemist buried himself in his work.

During lunch he caught the colonel silently analysing the food on his plate, obviously trying to figure out how Edward had managed to lose weight even though he always ate with the rest of the team and still devoured his normal, bigger than average, portion of food. He still didn't seem to get that maybe lunch was the only meal Ed ate during these days.

After reading the note concerning his weight, Edward had with a dumbfound expression realised that this indeed caused his pants to sit more loosely on his hips. So he pulled his belt a little tighter before he buckled it, but still didn't think about maybe starting his day with breakfast and end it with dinner. His body was functioning just fine without, so he didn't see a reason to go out and buy food and have all the restaurant owners who knew the kid with the gigantic appetite quite well ask where his companion in the armour was. And he didn't want something in his stomach only to bring it up again when he, against all odds, fell asleep in the dorm room and a nightmare made his insides churn.

Finally, Mustang gave him a disapproving look when he left headquarters that day. Ed could tell that the colonel would start thinking about how to make Ed speak now because the younger alchemist still didn't seem to want to do so out of his own will.

* * *

He mostly managed to ignore Mustang during the next morning and the colonel let it be because he had after all promised Ed that he'd wait two nights until he started forcing the boy to talk. It was after lunch when they were back in the office and just about to start working again when there was a knock at the door. Havoc went to get it and received a folder from a soldier from Investigations. He thanked the guy and went over to his desk, thumping through the papers.

"So, what did they find?", Mustang asked from were he was sitting behind his own desk.

"Well, the poor guy who was send to visit the guy who graduated with you said that...what's his name again... ah, Garber, is really creepy but has no chance to get out of that mental ward. Also his psychological profile didn't seem to allow for him to do these ugly killings." He skimmed the profile. "Apparently the reason why he's there in the first place is 'cause he...well...he can't live with the number of death he caused in Ishbal.", Havoc said slowly, eyeing Mustang carefully over the edge of the paper. The colonel's face didn't change.

"Continue.", was all he said.

"Well Garber is on a permanent guilt trip and tries to kill himself at every chance he gets, saying he doesn't deserve to live anymore. What is worse is that he also has a habit of trying to talk people into killing him by giving them every gruesome detail of his time in Ishbal. His favourite target for this are other soldiers who have been there as well. He tries to talk them into feeling too guilty to live too, so they would shoot him and then themselves. That's why the shrink says he wouldn't kill anybody but himself, and well indirectly those he talks into blowing their brains out by themselves."

They sat there in silence before Mustang turned to Hawkeye. "Did you know this?", he asked with a raised eyebrow.

"I met him once, only for a few minutes, the last day he was still part of the military. I didn't know he made a habit out of toying with people's minds, I just thought he hated you in particular. But he was discharged and put in that ward the next day, so I didn't think it was necessary to mention."

Mustang raised his second eyebrow in confusion. "Why would he hate me, I never really had anything to do with him?"

"Well, he seemed to be kind of...jealous."

"Jealous?" Mustang snorted. "I was hardly something to be jealous about during these times."

Hawkeye didn't seem to like Mustang calling himself a _something_ , but continued to explain. "Well he said something about how unfair it was that even though you were almost at the top of the list and he was at the bottom, you still managed to get away sane and with the title hero whilst he was broke down"

"Well then he obviously thought too much about the opinions of some war crazy soldiers.", Mustang said dismissively.

The colonel turned to Havoc again, obviously about to ask him to continue, when Fuery wanted to know: "What list?" Again Mustang was about to say something dismissive but this time Falman was faster.

"During the Ishbal Rebellion some soldiers started a variety of betting pools about the alchemists. The most infamous ones were one about which alchemist would kill off the most Ishbalans and one about which alchemist would go crazy first. This resulted in some kind of ranking lists.", the warrant officer spouted off the informations, like he always did when such questions occurred.

"Oh. That's ugly.", Fuery said.

"And it doesn't matter. We're working on a case here and Garber apparently has a good enough alibi to be put off the list. Now I want to know about the others.", Mustang interrupted before anyone else could say something.

"Uh yeah..the guys from investigation found them all, and one has got an alibi for the time of every murder so he's off the list, too. That leaves only two then: Beagle and Erlking.", Havoc read from the papers.

"Well then we better work out which one it is before we need to let them go again." The colonel said. The team nodded a grim nod and they started to work again. Havoc sorted the files he just got so he could put them with the other ones they had about this case.

"Yo, Boss, you mind if I use a bit of your desk to sort these?", he asked Edward. The younger blond shook his head, smiled and pushed his papers to one side of his desk so Havoc could use part of it, too.

"Thanks, man!" Havoc started to scatter the papers around so he could put them in a new order and look at them all at the same time while he started on a summary of what they had so far. Edward started at his current paper. After a while though, his pen ran out of ink. There was no more ink in his desk drawer and he didn't want to disturb Havoc or Hawkeye next to him, or the others, so he went over to the small supply cabinet in the corner and got some ink from there. Then he walked back to his desk.

The small inkpot fell to the floor, the black contents splashing around. All heads in the room shot up and gazes settled on the small alchemist.

Ed was shaking. He was staring at the thing on his desk, the desk that slowly vanished as the scenery around him changed. He was back in that basement, staring at that _body_ , staring at the organs that pulsed in their futile struggle to stay alive. _It_ was there, right in front of him, and he just couldn't look away! His eyes went wide and suddenly there were hands on him, grabbing him, shaking him. Edward tried to shrug them off, his heart raced as he feared to be torn apart again. But they wouldn't leave him alone! Those greedy hands would pull him back to the gate, take more limbs from him, maybe kill him off, or maybe force him to look at that mutilated body in front of him for forever! But he wouldn't let that happen! He clapped his hands, transmuted his automail into a blade and just when he was about to blindly leash out for those horrible hands a sharp voice ordered: "Back off!"

The hands vanished, and so did the corpse in front of him. A white hand had somehow turned it over, leaving nothing but a white rectangle for him to look at. He blinked in utter confusion, his mind trying to find an explanation about why there was this white rectangle in the basement now. The white hand was there again, slowly moving in front of him, reaching out for him. He stumbled a step back. Was this T _ruth_ , coming for him in person because he fought off it's black handed helpers? But Truth didn't have an array on the back of its hand.

"Look at me Fullmetal!"

Truth didn't have piercing black eyes and this calm but at the same time sharp voice, either.

"No one here means any harm to you. It's just Hawkeye and Havoc and Breda and Fuery and Falman and me. This was just a photograph, just a _picture_ from the crime scene of our current case. It's neither your mother nor Al and it's not here for real. You're standing in the office, not a basement."

Truth didn't have black, tousled hair, didn't wear a blue uniform.

And suddenly the colonel was standing with him in the basement and when he put his hands on Ed's shoulders, proving how real he was, the basement vanished, leaving them in the office.

Edward was panting, shaking and felt like his knees were about to give out. He swallowed hard, closed his eyes and concentrated on the hands on his shoulders that anchored him to reality.

And then his eyes flew open again when this reality hit him and he realised what he had been about to do. Wide eyed he stared down at his automail blade. If the hands that had shook and grabbed him had been those of the soldiers around him, then he had been about to use the blade against them.

The boy started shivering even more and hastily transmuted the automail back. They would hate him, rate him dangerous, abandon him, put him into the mental ward with that Garber alchemist. Edward felt like crying. He once again had made a wrong decision, had screwed up, had endangered others just because he was too selfish to bear the pain of staying in Resembool.

He felt Mustang's hands leave his shoulders and looked up in panic only to see the colonel turn away. His heart constricted painfully. _Scream, yell, tell him to stay!_ His mind shouted.

"Follow me."

Relieve flooded through him when he heard the words and he went after Mustang, staring at the blue clad back in front of him as if it would vanish if he didn't. The colonel led him to his inner office, saying something over his shoulder to Havoc about putting stuff away, and asking for someone to get some tea. He was so calm. Was it the calm before the storm? Ed hoped not, because it was so soothing that the colonel didn't freak out. Seeing that someone acted like the situation was under control made him feel like everything would be all right again soon.

"Sit down." The voice was still firm and commanding but there was something very gentle in it that Ed had never heard before. He liked the sound.

The boy dropped down on the couch, grateful that finally he could allow his legs to give out. Though he almost jumped up again when he felt something heavy fall over his shoulders. But he soon realised that it was just a black coat and instinctively pulled it tighter around his still shivering frame. The thing smelled like smoke yet it was not the disgusting one that came from cigarettes. It was the nice kind of smoke that reminded of fire places or a freshly blown out candle. The realisation that this was Mustangs coat hit him and he looked up to stare at the colonel in surprise.

"There are no blankets around.", the colonel said with a nonchalant shrug and sat down on the couch opposite of Ed.

For a moment the younger alchemist felt the urge to push the coat away and claim that he didn't need it, but he didn't want to loose the warmth that it provided. And it did not only provide warmth physically. In some crazy way the coat around his shoulders felt like a hug. Not that he wanted a hug from the colonel. This would be just too awkward, too much for the both of them, but the coat around his shoulders was okay. It was comfort without them getting too close.

Hawkeye entered, pulling Ed from his thoughts. She brought two mugs. The one with the tea she put in front of Ed, the one that contained coffee she gave to the colonel. Mustang looked surprised for a second, but then smiled a grateful smile and thanked his lieutenant.

"Should I stay?", she asked after accepting his thanks with a small smile of her own. Mustang stared into the depths of his coffee with a thoughtful look. It fascinated Edward to see the normally quick thinking colonel having difficulties to decide something.

"I'm not sure if this is _my_ decision.", he finally said and looked at Ed. "Do you want the lieutenant to stay?"

Ed looked at Hawkeye. He wasn't sure. He liked her and trusted her and she had that wonderful motherly site but he didn't want to show her what a wreck he was. Her job was to care about the colonel, not about him. It would not be fair if he stole her away from Mustang like Al had been stolen away from him. But on the other hand he feared that if he pushed her away once, she'd never again care about him.

"How about I stay outside and you just call me in if you need me?", Hawkeye suggested, sensing that the two males in the room somehow didn't know what to say. Both nodded, grateful for her suggestion.

"Just don't kill each other.", she tried to lift the mood before she left.

The two alchemists followed her with their eyes until she was gone before they finally looked at each other again.

"Maybe you should drink your tea and calm down a little more. We can try to talk when you stopped shivering.", Mustang finally suggested.

Edward nodded and started to sip at his tea, while Mustang sipped at his coffee. Both of them trying to think about how they would go on with their conversation later.


	8. Security blanket

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter shall be dedicated to my new and first beta xIcyChanx  
> (From fanfiction.net, go check her out there!)

Ed wished there was more tea in his cup because the warm drink was very soothing, and cradling the warm mug stopped his hands from shaking. He also wished that there was more coffee in Mustang's cup, because the moment Mustang finished drinking would be the moment he started talking with Ed. Or rather started talking _to_ Ed, because Ed doubted that he'd be able to participate in a conversation.

So, he bit his lip and eyed the colonel nervously when the last bit of the black coffee vanished down the man's throat. Mustang made a move to put his cup down on the small table between the couches, but then decided against it and kept it in his hands, absentmindedly toying around with it.

"So...that picture reminded you of your mother and Alphonse, huh?" the Colonel finally asked, his voice low. Ed nodded slowly.

"Well...it is understandable that this has...upset you, but..." Mustang fiddled with the coup and Ed watched him, waiting for him to find the words to continue. How come silver tongued Roy Mustang couldn't find the words to tell him that he had become too dangerous and crazy to keep around?

Finally, Mustang put the cup on the table and straightened his back. Ed flinched. Now, here it was; he would be told to go now. Black eyes met his golden and held his gaze firmly.

"This might be cruel, Fullmetal, but I can't think of any other way to tell you. Your mother and Alphonse were...are precious to you. But you know that you can't bring them back, you've tested and proved that. They're both gone for good. And because of that, you will never be in that place again, and you will never have to fear Truth again. You have no reason to open the gate again and that is why it can't get you. So you need to understand that no matter what you see in the future, be it a picture or be it real, it can _never_ be your mother or Alphonse, because they have already been taken away. And it can _never_ be that Truth is after you again, because you have already payed the price required and you know it's futile to try another human transmutation. So, no matter what corpse you see in the future, it can't harm you and if the gate is involved, then not because of you. You are safe as long as you don't do something stupid. Remember that and think of it when you feel frightened again. If you do so then neither you nor anyone else will be harmed."

Mustang took a deep breath, released it slowly, and then looked at Ed again, waiting for a reaction or a sign that Ed got the message or that he had to try and explain it in another way.

Ed gulped and gripped his mug tighter before lifting it to his lips and swallowing the last bit of his tea. The colonel's blunt words hurt but, if he thought past that, then he could see that Mustang was somehow right.

Al and his mother were gone.

There was no way for them to come back.

Truth couldn't harm him as long as he didn't provoke it.

Edward started to calm down. He couldn't guarantee that he wouldn't freak out again if he were to see one of the corpses this killer left behind but, as long as it was just a picture and people warned him about what it depicted, he thought he could handle it now. Even so, he had the feeling the others would keep those pictures away from him from now on. And he was glad for that, for he didn't want to test himself just yet. He looked back at Mustang, who was still watching him and waiting for his reaction, and nodded.

Mustang sighed and combed his fingers through his hair. "Could you at least _voice_ your opinion?" he asked, the stress causing him to lose his patience a little.

"I...I understand," Ed mumbled. He tucked the colonel's coat tighter around himself, partly to hide himself and partly because it still felt reassuring. Mustang had already found his calmness again and even looked a bit contrite for losing it for a second.

"Okay," the colonel said. He smirked a little, albeit friendlily, and made it look almost like a smile. "Now, that wasn't so hard, was it?" He leaned back and looked down at his hands for awhile. Edward watched him as he collected his thoughts. The boy placed his empty cup next to the colonel's mug and cuddled a little more into the coat and the couch. It felt nice, comfortable and safe here. Mustang looked up again and gave him another one of his almost-smile smirks. "You look like you'll fall asleep any second."

Ed hesitated but then glared at him.

The colonel regarded him thoughtfully. "You think you can sleep on this couch?"

The younger alchemist blinked and stared at him in confusion.

"Oh, don't worry I _will_ pester you about your sleeping on that bench, but I promised you two nights to think about it, so I'll wait until tomorrow because you look like you'd rather sleep than talk right now," Mustang assured, his smirk turning a little more mischievous.

When Ed just continued to stare, the colonel stood and made to leave the inner office. "Just sleep, Fullmetal. We'll be on the other side of the door if you need something. I'll ask Hawkeye to get a real blanket."

And then, finally and much to Ed's surprise, he graced him with a real smile and walked out of the office.

The baffled little alchemist watched the colonel's back as he vanished through the door. It somehow ached a little, but he fisted his hands around the fabric of the black coat and it eased the pain somewhat. After all, his already sleepy brain concluded that people who left others behind would be too egoistic to walk away without their coat to keep them warm on their way away. So he lay on the couch and closed his eyes, and when someone tried to take the coat away in exchange for a blanket, he mumbled something that sounded like "Bastard can have it if he stays in the office," and turned over without opening his eyes or releasing his grip.

* * *

When he awoke there was the white ceiling of the dorm above him, and he was still clutching the black fabric of one Roy Mustang's coat, instead of a blanket. Red in the face, he shoved the coat off him, embarrassed that he had acted like a five year old with the coat as his security blanket. He glanced over at his desk, noticed the edge of a folded paper under his watch, and thought that he would probably have to read something like that now. He jumped from his bed and eagerly unfolded the note nonetheless.

> _You should thank the weather forecast for claiming there will be no rain today otherwise I might have had to burn you off my coat. But because they said there will be sunshine, I was, as you like to call me, lazy and let it be. Though I hope the fact that today I want an answer about the sleeping on the bench thing won't scare you too much to come to work because it'll probably be raining tomorrow and therefore I'd appreciate it if you gave me back my coat today._
> 
> _Sincerely,_
> 
> _Colonel Roy Mustang, Flame Alchemist, has carried you to your dorm for the last time._

Edward was a little surprised that there was no mentioning of his clingy behaviour towards the coat, other than that Mustang wanted it back. He read the note again, checking for a joke about _little_ kids and their security blankets, but found nothing. That was odd. Well, maybe the colonel felt like he had already wasted enough energy on Edward to think about some witty comparisons between Ed and a kindergarten kid. Or he was actually being nice. The young alchemist couldn't decide.

Finally, Ed carefully folded the note so he could put it with the rest that were all stuffed between the pages of his journal. Once that was done, he just as carefully folded Mustang's coat and tucked it under his arm before leaving for work after getting ready.

As he walked past the bench, he realised that he felt much better than he ever had after falling asleep there. That might be because he had only missed one night's sleep instead of two, but he had a feeling that there was something else. Though he couldn't for the life of him figure out what that something was.

He walked into HQ and straight to Mustang's outer office. He swallowed as he gazed at its occupants. Were they angry with him, hated him, or thought of him as crazy because of yesterday?

They looked up when he shuffled into the room, and greeted him just like they always did; cheerfully, waving, and yelling across the room when they felt they were too far from the door to be heard if they spoke normally. Ed felt he didn't deserve it.

"Hey, something wrong boss?" Havoc asked, looking at Ed's face in concern.

Ed felt his lip quiver but tried to suppress it. "I'm sorry!" he blurted out, waving his automail a little to show them what he meant. Then he stared at the ground, trying his best not to let the tears free and waited for the others to tell him they didn't care, because they couldn't trust him anymore.

"Hey boss, you don't need to be sorry!" Havoc exclaimed gently. "I put that picture there even though I should have known better, so _I_ should be sorry. And I am."

"And we shouldn't have grabbed you so roughly, but we couldn't think of something else to help you snap out of it," Fuery added softly and Falman and Breda nodded their agreement.

"Everyone does things they don't mean to when they're afraid. It's okay Ed. I mean, we're all fine, aren't we?" Hawkeye came over and lifted his chin so he could see her smile.

He lowered his head again though. "Yeah, 'cause the colonel told you to back off," he murmured.

"The colonel told us to back off so he could get past us and turn that picture over. I don't think he really thought you'd hurt us," Havoc tried again.

Edward sceptically lifted an eyebrow at him. Havoc held his gaze though, not backing down. The younger blond still didn't think that was entirely true, but if Havoc was so set on making him believe it, then maybe he and the rest of the team really weren't angry and really still cared for him. Ed hesitantly smiled a little and, when no one looked angry, it turned into a grin.

"Thanks," he said softly.

"Pfff, just don't beat yourself up over it and we're done." Havoc grinned friendlily around his cigarette.

" _And_ bring me a sandwich."

"Breda!"

"Just kidding!"

They all laughed and watched Havoc try to smack Breda over the head.

* * *

It turned out that the Colonel was called to some meeting, and had to inspect the fire station afterwards, so he wouldn't be in the office until sometime after lunch. Ed didn't know whether to be relieved that he had more time to think about how to approach the matter with the colonel, or whether to just hate it because now he was sitting here, nervous as hell. He tried concentrating on his work.

Hawkeye had suggested putting the colonel's coat with the others on the coat rack in the corner, but Edward kept the still folded coat rested in his lap instead, feeling that he should give it back in person, and hoping that maybe he could cling to it during that dreaded talk. He hated himself for the last thought, but he knew he would need one part of the colonel he could absolutely be sure that wouldn't think badly of him so as to get through this. And if that part was his black coat, so be it.

When Mustang finally walked in, Edward waited until the colonel had greeted everyone and exchanged some information and then wet his lips and stood. Mustang looked a little surprised, but also relieved. He nodded for Ed to follow him, tossed some last orders about work at the others, and went for his private office. Edward walked after him, hugging the coat tightly to his chest.

Even though he just practically stated he was ready to talk and wanted it, he was nervous and had no clue about what to do or say once he was seated in his spot on the couch. There was no way he could explain how he felt, it was just so...he couldn't even understand it himself, so how would Mustang be able to?

He felt the urge to just cover himself with the coat and try to sleep again, but one look at Mustang's face told him that he wouldn't be allowed to.

Roy Mustang wanted answers. And Edward Elric had no doubts that the colonel would get them out of him somehow.

So, defence mechanism number one kicked in. _Go numb..._


	9. A waiting car

Edward sat on the couch staring at the colonel, but without really looking at him. His eyes didn't follow Mustang's movements, didn't change focus when the colonel came closer or backed off, and didn't show any sign that their owner was responsive to the world. His ears were deaf to every word, every change in tone, even silence made no difference. His nose only smelled the smoky scent of the coat he was clutching tightly, and his skin just felt its rough fabric. His mouth emitted no sound and merely tasted bitter. The only thought running through his usually bright and alert mind was a monotone mantra along the lines of:

_It will be over soon, just wait a little longer._

That was until the fire flashed around him. He didn't know how long he had just been sitting there happily in his little bubble of numbness, but suddenly there were raging flames around him, threatening to bite into his skin. They were extinguished before they could get a single taste of his flesh, but they still caused his instincts to take over, sending his body into an alert state. His eyes were forced to regain focus. The colonel mercilessly used the moment to catch Edward's eye. He lifted his gloved hand, a wordless threat that another flame would come if Ed dared to avert his gaze.

So Ed kept his eyes locked on Mustang's face. He knew the colonel would sooner or later realise that he was still drowning out his voice, but with the shock spell of the fire gone for now, he didn't really care. Actually, now that he was obliged to look at Mustang's face, he found it was rather interesting, much more interesting than the words that were being spoken.

Mustang was known for keeping his facial expression under control very well. He wouldn't drop his mask unless he was with people he trusted and was really comfortable around, or unless he was caught off guard. Edward used to get really pissed when the man seemingly effortlessly kept his face the way he wanted it, only showing that Ed annoyed him or amused him in any way, but always only when it could not be used against him later. At some point the boy had come to the conclusion that maybe the colonel just didn't know how to shift his expression to anything else than his basic faces any more.

Now though, when he had no choice but to look and wasn't distracted with what Mustang said and how, or was constantly searching the words for hidden or implied short jokes, he could actually see every tiny twitch of every tiny muscle when the colonel restrained them from pulling his face in an expression. Maybe this was the secret of how Hawkeye managed to read him so well.

And because he was so focused on this little movements in the colonel's face, Edward didn't even flinch when another flame was sent his way. He had seen it coming, had seen the minuscule traces of anger and determination that announced it, before the colonel suppressed them. And now he could see the surprise, defeat, _helplessness_ , followed by... nothing.

The boy blinked in confusion when the colonel recovered from his shock about Ed ignoring the fire, calmed down and sat back down on his place on the couch - _when had he gotten up?-_ adopting the same expression Ed probably wore himself. Blank, utterly blank.

He just sat there, observing Ed over his interlaced fingers and staring at him with unfocused eyes. Now _that_ was something Edward _should_ actually be grateful for, because it allowed him to stay in his bubble undisturbed, but it drove him crazy instead. It felt like Mustang was trying to copy him, to _absorb_ Ed in order to understand him. An absurd idea, because there was no way Mustang could extract Edward's thoughts from his skull, but still, he felt more than a little uncomfortable. The colonel was supposed to meticulously scrutinise him with those black eyes of his, not _swallow_ him!

Edward started to fidget and subconsciously play with the coat. He could hear the clock on the wall ticking as the minutes passed by. Hell, he thought he could hear his pocket watch! And Mustang remained quiet, feeding him his own medicine. Did he make the colonel snap? Did Edward Elric cause Roy Mustang to become exasperated with him so much that he had had enough? It made Edward incredibly nervous, because this was just impossible, _and_ it had never been his intention! He didn't want to drive the colonel crazy this way! Mustang was smug and annoying and self righteous, but as much as Ed hated to admit it, he knew that in the end the colonel only had the best intentions and was a good man who didn't deserve to end up in a mental ward because Edward couldn't keep himself together.

The boy opened his mouth, tried to say something. He still didn't know how to explain and voice his feelings, but he needed to get a reaction out of the colonel! He could hear the clock still ticking away the precious minutes, shortening the amount of time left until the end of working hours and until he would have to return to the dorms and leave this extremely disturbing version of Mustang sitting here with hopes that Hawkeye could restore the man to his usual self. But he couldn't just do that! That would be just as worse as hurting the colonel with his automail blade and running away afterwards.

Edward glanced at the clock on the wall briefly, realised that only half an hour was left- _just how long had he been ignoring the colonel?_ \- and started sweating. He needed a solution, he needed _words_ , damn it! His breathing increased, his vision blurred, his heart raced and he started feeling light headed, which caused him to sway in his seat. Suddenly, Mustang stood.

"I don't want you to have a panic attack or something," the colonel said calmly, brushing none existent dust from his uniform. "And I need time to think. We'll continue this tomorrow. Now, calm down. I'll give you a ride to the dorms in half an hour. I won't be able to finish my paperwork for today anyway."

Mustang left the private office, and Ed followed him with his gaze. Once the door shut, he pulled his legs up on the couch and forced his body to relax, even though his mind remained pure chaos.

_Don't think about all of it at the same time; don't think about all of it at the same time..._

After a while, he managed to accumulate his thoughts and realised that, because Mustang had snapped out of it, there was no reason for him to panic anymore and, finally, the stress started to slowly but steadily subside. He loosened his grip on the black coat that was still in his lap, and absent-mindedly checked the fabric for damage from his automail hand. Luckily there was none. This somehow calmed him down completely.

He managed to stand without shaking, and even gave the colonel back his coat when Mustang held out his hand for it. The older alchemist sounded like his usual self again, and was planning his schedule for tomorrow with Hawkeye as they walked through the hallways of Central HQ. Ed could see some other soldiers around them stare, whisper, and even snicker when they recognised him. He chose to merely glare at them. The only soldiers whose opinion he would care about at the moment were Hawkeye and Mustang, so he didn't feel bad in the least when he scared the others away with his good ol' 'I'm pissed' look. It actually felt rather nice, nostalgic even, and helped him regain a bit of his lost confidence for a while.

It was raining outside, but they reached one of the black military cars rather quickly. Hawkeye sat in the driver's seat and Mustang in the back seat, leaving Edward to follow his example. He watched the raindrops hit the window and admired the way they built small rivers on the pane when Hawkeye started driving.

The ride was silent and felt like forever, even though the way was actually rather short; a matter of five minutes on a good day. But the rain slowed the traffic, for nobody could see very far, and there were more cars filling the streets than on a sunny day. Pedestrians forced drivers to hit the brakes at least once a minute, since they didn't care where they crossed the streets, as long as it allowed them to get to their dry and warm homes faster. A lost umbrella was blown in their way when the wind picked up and gave an ugly scratching sound as it slid over the car's roof. Edward huddled in his seat, trying his best not to let the bad weather pull him down in his despair even more.

At last, the car parked at the curb in front of the dorms. Mustang nudged Edward with something, and the surprised alchemist turned to find the colonel offering him an umbrella, something that surprised him even more. Hesitantly, but with a small and grateful smile, he took it and turned to the car door. He stared out of the window at the façade of the dorms with dread and gulped. His hands closed around the umbrella tightly.

He didn't want to go back there, didn't want to stay in that horribly familiar room that reminded him of so many things that still hurt too much to think about. He wanted someone with him, to be distracted and to have a chance to become stable and self confident again before facing the past. Edward looked back down at the umbrella and his vision blurred.

"Don't...I don't want to leave the car..." he whispered, trying to chase his courage out of its hideout and make use of it. He had just managed to gather his biggest problems in a few sentences, so he just _needed_ to tell them _now_ , before everything became complicated again. The umbrella made a cracking sound when he clutched it even tighter. Now or never!

"It...I can't...can't sleep there because...it reminds me of...of Al, and it's too quiet and I...I'm alone but I don't want to, I can't...can't do this, it's...too much of...I hate that room!" he blurted out quickly and squeezed his eyes shut.

Then, Edward held his breath, waiting. He hoped he had managed to make his point, hoped he had used sentences that were coherent enough to understand and, most of all, hoped that Mustang would have a solution to the problem. His lungs had just started to hurt and crave oxygen when finally the tense silence was broken.

"Fix the umbrella."

Edward's head snapped up, and he stared at the colonel with wide, baffled eyes. How could Mustang even think about that damned umbrella right now? Didn't he understand–

"Then, go get your things."

The boy blinked in surprise. Mustang wasn't even looking at him. He had his arms folded in front of his chest and stared at the back of Hawkeye's seat, but the slightly defensive look on his face told Ed that he hadn't imagined the colonel's words. It was a face Mustang pulled when he made a decision and didn't want to be questioned about it. Edward glanced at Hawkeye in the rear-view mirror. She was looking out of the windshield, politely staying out of their business, though Ed could tell that she would start a serious conversation with the colonel the moment he was out of the car.

The young alchemist hesitantly clapped his hands and mended the umbrella. He opened the door, the umbrella ensuing, and made to leave the car, only to halt before he was completely out of the vehicle. What if this was just a trick, what if –

"Don't worry; we won't drive away," Mustang assured calmly, glancing at Ed and nodding for him to go in an encouraging way. "This car will stay right here until you're back in your seat."

Ed bit his lip and locked gazes with Mustang, silently telling the colonel that if he broke this promise, he would never be trusted again. When Mustang didn't back down, Ed turned and left the car. His heart was beating faster than ever as he walked over to the building, anticipating the horrible sound of the awakening engine.

The moment the front door closed behind him, he knew that if they drove away now, he wouldn't be able to hear it any more. This insecurity made adrenaline rush through his veins and he dashed through the hallways, taking two steps at a time as he ascended the stairs until he reached his room. He panicked when he dropped the key in his haste, but finally he managed to open the door. Within a blink he was standing by the small window.

The car was still there.

Ed grabbed the few things he had unpacked and stuffed them in his suitcase. One last glance to make sure he had everything, and the next second he was racing through the hallways again. He forcefully stopped himself when he reached the last corner before the front door. His hectic heartbeat was loud in his ears as he walked the last steps towards the door and threw it open.

And there, right at the curb still parked the black car, lights on so no one would hit it, and the only sound coming from it being the rain drumming its melody on the roof and hood. The engine remained lifeless until he had his suitcase in the trunk and was back in his seat. Only then did he hear the purring sound of the awakening machine.

"I'm guessing you don't want to go to Gracia and Elysia?" The colonel didn't say the Hughes' place and Ed could understand why. Saying the name would only remind them even more that _The_ Hughes wasn't with them anymore. The boy shook his head.

"A hotel?"

Another shake of the head.

A moment of silence, pondering options, and making sure the decision was meant.

"Hawkeye, my place, please."

"Sir."

The car started moving and Edward watched as the dorms vanished behind them. Then, he turned and handed the umbrella back to Mustang.

"Thank you," he said softly.

"You're welcome," was the calm answer.

Neither of them was talking about the umbrella.


	10. A new place

Edward didn't know whether it was routine or whether Mustang and Hawkeye had talked about it when he was out of the car to get his things from the dorm, but Hawkeye stopped the car at a Xingese restaurant without a word and Mustang got out and came back with two bags filled with food. He handed the smaller one to his lieutenant and she thanked him and rested it on the passenger seat before starting to drive again.

"I hope you like Xingese food," Mustang said after a while, obviously realising that maybe he should have asked that before. Edward nodded. Even if he did like almost every food in the world anyway, he couldn't care less right now. Food was just something needed to stay alive, nothing more.

Mustang nodded and let Ed be. The colonel seemed to be too deep in thought himself to thrive for a real conversation. Or maybe he had just realised that it was futile to try and make Ed talk right now. The young alchemist was nervous; he fiddled with the hem of his red coat, thinking about what had happened and what would be transpiring soon.

Mustang had gotten him out of the dorm. And he would now be staying with the colonel.

Maybe it would be just for the night and tomorrow the colonel would seek out another solution, or maybe it would be for quite a while. He didn't know and he couldn't decide which option he'd prefer. There had been a time when he would have jumped out of the moving car immediately to avoid staying with Mustang longer than it took him to kick his office door open and give a report. But during that time, he still had Al with him and a goal in mind.

He forced the thoughts of Al away. Not now. He needed to get stronger again before facing those memories. Though he wasn't even sure he wanted that. Being a numb vegetable would be so much easier.

He glanced at the colonel from the corner of his eye. Mustang was looking out of the window, elbow propped against the car door and his chin resting on his hand. The other hand held the bag with food feebly on his lap. He looked relaxed, but if he truly was, then he would be sitting in a more comfortable position. The way he was seated now made every bump in the road cause him to nearly hit his head on the windowpane.

The car slowed and eventually stopped, interrupting Ed's analysis of the colonel. Mustang thanked Hawkeye and they bid each other good bye before exiting the car. Ed managed a "bye 'n' thanks" for Hawkeye and followed after him. He noticed it had finally stopped raining as they rounded the car. The colonel opened the trunk and Ed grabbed his suitcase. Nervously, he followed Mustang to the apartment complex. The older man opened the front door and led him to the upper floor. Finally, they stopped in front of one of the doors. Ed took a deep breath to calm himself while Mustang tried to find the right key from the bunch in his hand, without dropping his briefcase and the food he still held. After a moment, he managed to unlock the door.

"Well, here we are. Welcome to my humble home," Mustang said with a shrug and pushed the door open. Ed went in but stopped after just a few steps. He tried not to think like an escape route was blocked when Mustang shut the door behind him.

"You can keep your boots on if they're not too dirty, I don't care, just get comfortable," the colonel informed as he placed the food on the small table next to the door. Ed watched as he pulled off his own boots and shrugged out of his coat and uniform jacket. Some part of him that he hadn't felt in a very long time protested loudly at the thought of taking his platform boots off. Should he allow Colonel _Bastard_ Roy Mustang to see how tall...short...he really was? He inwardly snorted. What a needless thought that was. Mustang would tease him anyway, so what difference would it make? But lately, the colonel _had_ acted rather nice, so maybe he would be polite? He finally decided to take off his boots and then he looked around.

Mustang had vanished somewhere, most likely his bedroom. The room Edward was currently standing in was a living room. It held a couch with a coffee table next to it, a desk and a small filing cabinet in the corner. The walls were lined with bookcases and there was a small fireplace. That was pretty much it.

Ed wasn't sure what to think of it. He had guessed that the colonel owned a rather fancy place, but this was quite plain. It was still homey somehow, though. Maybe a better word would be simple instead of plain.

Mustang came out of one of the doors to Ed's left and surprised the younger alchemist just as much as the apartment had. He was wearing a pair of casual black pants and a white button down shirt instead of the dark blue army pants and the light blue uniform dress shirt.

"Sit down somewhere," he said invitingly, gesturing towards the kitchen area to Ed's right side. It was divided from the living room by a counter and held a stove, a sink, some cabinets and a small table with two chairs. Ed did as he was told and took a seat in one of the chairs.

He didn't feel like eating. His stomach was used to his normal, or rather abnormal, eating pattern by now and he was feeling way too uncomfortable. He watched Mustang unpack the food and curled up in himself a little. The colonel seemed much too... well _uncolonel-like_ standing in a kitchen without his uniform, and commenting on how happy he was about the food still being warm. Edward didn't know how he was supposed to act around this _person._ It felt like he was with a stranger and that frightened him more than he'd like to admit.

Mustang seemed to catch on Ed being uncomfortable, because he fell silent and simply dished out the food. This didn't make it any better though. Ed would have preferred to hear his voice, even if he once again didn't pay any mind to what words were spoken. Just the familiar sound that assured him that this was still the same colonel was important.

Edward poked at his food as he tried to convince himself that there was no reason to feel like this, and that a change of clothes didn't make a different person out of Mustang. He didn't need another problem on his list, another thing that caused chaos and fear in him because he didn't know how to handle it. After a while, he gave up. He was so used to it; it was really simple for him by now to shut down thinking. And going numb really did the trick, because now he managed to mechanically eat the food in front of him. The fact that this reminded him of his time in Risembool only pulled him deeper to the core of his own little empty world.

Sometime later, his brain seemed to deem Mustang's instructions about where the bathroom was and that he would have to make do with the couch today important enough to be heard. The colonel handed him a blanket and a fluffy cushion.

"Don't worry, the couch is comfortable. I fall asleep on it pretty often and I always sleep fine," he said, as if Ed cared. The Fullmetal Alchemist simply nodded.

"Okay... you don't need to go to sleep right now. If you want you can read one of my books or something. I'll go take a shower, and then I'll be in my room. Call if you need something."

Ed nodded again. Mustang didn't seem very happy about his charge's current state, but then apparently decided that at the moment he couldn't do a thing about it and so he gave a nod of his own and turned to leave the room.

"Good night, Fullmetal. I'll wake you up for work tomorrow," he said before closing the door.

Edward sat on the couch for a while, just waiting for time to go by like he usually did when he was sitting on his bed in Risembool. The boy looked out of the window and dimly realised that here killing time was even easier, because watching the busy streets of Central was far more distracting than the quiet fields of his hometown. He blinked and frowned.

Why was he killing time at the moment? He wasn't in Risembool, meaning _that_ kind of pain couldn't harm him right now. And he wasn't in the dorms, either. This place was just an apartment, a place that was _new_ to him and not tainted with memories, because it didn't resemble all the places he had stayed at with Al. It meant he could... _relax._

Edward went and got his suitcase from where it still stood by the door. He was still hesitant, but fished out his sleepwear nonetheless. During the last few weeks he had been sleeping in whatever he was wearing when Mustang dropped him off at the dorms, but now, he was awake and willing to change. The distant sound of water running ceased. Ed gathered his toothbrush, and then waited. After half an hour he came to the conclusion that the bathroom must have two doors, one of them leading to Mustang's bedroom. Just to be sure, he knocked but when no-one answered, he went in. The room did have two doors indeed. It was still warm, and there was still some fog on the mirror, but Ed didn't mind. He hadn't dared to really look into a mirror for quite some time now. Quickly, he got ready for bed.

Careful not to leave any evidence that he had been there, he left the bathroom, switched off all the lights and sauntered to the couch. The blanket Mustang had given him was thick and soft and perfect to wrap around himself like a cocoon. He lay down and snuggled into the pillow. Letting his eyes trace the outlines of the furniture in the dim light the night sky outside of the window provided, he felt his eyelids starting to droop. For once though, he didn't mind.

Even with his eyes closed he could still be sure that he was neither in the dorms nor in Risembool and that he wouldn't wake up to loneliness and hurt again, because the blanket didn't smell like Granny Pinako's laundry detergent or like the cheap one they used in the dorms and there was the faint scent of leather from the couch. So he breathed in deeply and smiled a little before sleep took over him.

* * *

Edward awoke to someone tapping his shoulder in a really obnoxious manner and a rather sleepy voice talking to him.

"Come ooon, wake up! It's hard enough to drag myself out of bed in the morning, I don't have the energy to motivate you, too!"

He pulled his blanket tighter around himself, not willing to let the best sleep he had had in what felt like ages go. There was an exasperated sigh and the tapping stopped. He thought he had won, but:

"MAJOR ELRIC, AT ATTENTION!"

The boy yelped, jumped and fell off the couch. Colonel Roy Mustang barking in his professional military voice at the top of his lungs could do that to you. Edward stared at the man, bright red in the face. What the hell was he doing he-...oh, yes, he was in Mustang's apartment. Blushing even harder, he slowly got off the floor. Mustang yawned innocently and marched over to the kitchenette.

"Get ready, Hawkeye might not lecture _you_ for being late, but she'll definitely lecture _me,"_ he grumbled as he opened the coffee machine.

Still not completely over his shock about how Mustang could yell like that without being fully awake himself, Ed grabbed his things and rushed over to the bathroom. At the door, he stopped, looking back to Mustang. The colonel lazily waved a hand, "Go ahead, take a shower, whatever, just be ready at quarter to eight. Or better some time before, if you want breakfast." Ed nodded and went in the bathroom, leaving Mustang to glare at his coffee machine, for it obviously worked too slowly for the sleepy colonel.

When Ed exited the bathroom, fully dressed and still damp hair in the usual braid, the colonel was watching the scrambled eggs cook, a cup of coffee in his left hand, a spatula in his right. With breakfast it was the same like with dinner. Even though the scent of coffee and eggs made his stomach react somehow, Ed didn't want to get used to food in the morning again. He didn't know how long the colonel would keep him here, so he didn't want to change his pattern just yet. That's why he decided not to intrude and sat on the couch, intending to just wait there until they left for work. Mustang looked up from the eggs and over to Ed, smirking a little.

"Since when have you been so shy, Fullmetal?" the still sleepy colonel teased but instantly dropped his smirk and realised his mistake. They both knew very well when Edward had become _shy_ and much more importantly, _why._ Ed sat still, clenching his hands to fists and Mustang bit his lip, all traces of sleep vanishing from his face. There was silence for a while. The colonel took the eggs off the stove and grabbed two plates.

"Breakfast?" he asked, his voice uncharacteristically soft. Ed knew Mustang was sorry and he was aware he wouldn't have managed a better apology himself, so he nodded and shuffled over to the kitchen table, accepting it. Mustang put a plate with eggs in front of him, and then added the toast that had just popped out of the toaster.

"Coffee?" he offered and Ed shook his head.

"Milk?" _That_ actually got a glare out of the boy.

"Orange juice?" Ed thought about it for a moment, and then nodded. Mustang got a glass and filled it with juice, then put it next to Ed's plate.

"Bon appetite," the colonel murmured and they started eating. Ed didn't really want to, but he finished his whole plate nonetheless. His stomach didn't seem to care about his "don't get used to breakfast "attitude. And he had to admit, only to himself of course, that the eggs tasted quite good.

When they finished, Mustang mechanically did the dishes. The years at military academy had probably drilled the fact that kitchen duty was necessary into his head very well. When finished, the colonel put on his uniform jacket and attached the skirt things to his pants. He grabbed his briefcase and keys and waved for Ed to follow. Edward had nothing to grab besides some cash for lunchtime. He stuffed it into his jacket and the two left the apartment.

A middle aged woman exited the apartment next door, crossed her arms in front of her chest and glared at Mustang.

"Sorry 'bout the yelling, but I had to wake him for work," Roy apologised with a sheepish smile and pointed his thump at Ed. Once again Ed felt himself blush. The woman saw the blushing boy standing next to the colonel awkwardly, and smiled.

"Just don't do it again," she said with a friendly shrug.

"Sure, ma'am, this was the first and the last time," Mustang assured her with a quick and polite bow. She giggled and went back into her apartment.

His breakfast felt like a stone in Edward's stomach. _The first and the last time._ So he wouldn't be staying with the colonel longer than necessary after all. It was an emergency solution that he had been allowed to stay for the night and today he would be brought somewhere else. He wanted to bring his breakfast back up, but forced himself to walk after the colonel instead, staring at the man's heels for he couldn't bring himself to lift his head.

Edward cursed himself for being so weak that one peaceful night of sleep and breakfast with some kind of company was enough to make him want to stay with Mustang.

* * *


	11. Assumptions and Rumours

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Roy/Ed fans, please don't hate me, keep in mind this story is parental!

They walked the ten minutes to HQ. Mustang explained that he usually did so because he wanted to enjoy as much fresh air as possible before Hawkeye held him captive in the office. He had offered to call a cab if Ed didn't want to walk, but the younger alchemist absentmindedly declined. Ed was used to walking everywhere and didn't feel like bothering Mustang any more than necessary.

During their silent walk, his brain had somehow come up with the theory that maybe if he showed the colonel that he wasn't just a nuisance he would change his mind and allow Ed to stay with him longer. The boy could sense that something about these thoughts was stupid, but his theory wouldn't hurt anybody, so he might just as well try.

When they entered the office though, he saw that the phase of drowning in paperwork had come to an end. The stacks of paperwork on the desks of Mustang's team were much smaller than last week's and all the soldiers were sitting there rather relieved. Ed, however, didn't feel relieved in the slightest. If they only had a small amount of paperwork, then he wouldn't be able to prove himself useful again but, instead, he would be redundant. His shoulders slumped. He received some curious glances from the others that inquired if he was all right, and he nodded at them, a small smile gracing his lips. Maybe he could find something new to do once he was done with his papers?

He started working, clinging to this small piece of hope.

* * *

Edward finished his work just before lunch break. He waited the few minutes the others needed to get ready, and then made to follow them to the mess hall. However, he stopped when he registered that the number of people leaving the office was wrong. He tapped Havoc on the shoulder and nodded towards Mustang's office with a questioning glance.

"If he's not out by now, then he's gonna skip lunch. He sometimes does that when he's got paperwork that allows no more procrastinating. And since he didn't finish anything yesterday I'm guessing that's the case." Havoc said with a shrug. "Don't worry though, Hawkeye will bring him a sandwich and force him to eat it."

Ed nodded and, with a last glance towards Mustangs office, he followed the others. He didn't pay any attention to their conversation, however. He was busy thinking maybe that was the reason why Mustang wouldn't want to keep Ed with him. Ed was too much of a bother and work. The colonel hated paperwork and today he even had to skip lunch to do it because Edward had kept him from finishing his stuff yesterday. The young alchemist figured that there was no other way he could have ruined his relationship with the colonel more efficiently than forcing bureaucracy upon him on an empty stomach, except for trying to kill him maybe.

So when they reached the office again, and he watched Hawkeye bring a sandwich over to their commander, he felt really bad. And because he had all of his work done there was no way for him to distract himself from that feeling. He simply stared at his desk. There were two ways he could go now.

Number one: become numb – so easy, so efficient.

Number two: Try to find something else to do that is productive and useful. Much more difficult, but he longed to get in the colonel's good graces again even if the chance that Mustang would change his mind about letting Ed stay with him was slim.

Ed pondered his two options. Basically, it was a choice between running away and hiding or facing it and doing something about it. He pursed his lips in a firm line and straightened his back. Edward once thought that he wasn't a person to run from things and it was time to try and consider this again. It would most likely be something trivial and would probably crumble again when the moment was over, but just for a second he wanted to taste who he had been and who he could be once more when he managed to pull himself together again.

So, he stood and went over to Mustang's private office. He didn't have a plan about what exactly he was going to do once he was in, because just convincing himself to make it through the door was difficult, but he had to do it somehow. At last, Ed took a deep breath and slipped into the room.

The colonel was scribbling on some paper, looking rather grumpy as he finished the form and immediately grabbed another, absent-mindedly swallowing the last bite of the sandwich Hawkeye had brought him. Edward watched for a second, and then shuffled over to the desk. The colonel looked up once his attention had been caught. To Ed's surprise his face brightened up a little when he realised who was standing in front of him.

"What can I do for you Fullmetal?" he asked almost cheerfully.

 _Probably just happy that he has a reason to pause with his paperwork_ , Ed thought sadly.

The boy looked over the small paper towers on Mustang's desk. He knew Havoc said he couldn't, but he wanted to help somehow. He reached for some of the files, his hand hovering over the papers as he looked at Mustang questioningly. The colonel blinked, surprised. He looked from the paper to Ed and back, obviously trying to figure out whether he had gotten it right. Edward frowned a bit. Was it really so surprising that he wanted to help the colonel? Probably yes, considering the way he used to laugh at Mustang and call him lazy when he complained about how much paperwork Ed had brought upon him. Maybe Mustang didn't want to have to put up with Ed in his apartment because he was resentful? Though it had seemed like some sort of amicable banter at that time... He was pulled from his thoughts when Mustang managed to get over his surprise.

"That's a really nice offer, but you posses neither the rank nor the military knowledge for these. And they've got to be read whole," the colonel said, looking a bit contrite.

Ed's face dropped. With a sigh, he looked at the ground and nodded, feeling whatever hope he had built up before entering the office vanish.

"But..." Mustang started slowly and Ed looked up again, clinging to the single word that suggested something good might still be to come. The colonel regarded his papers thoughtfully. "If you want to and have nothing better to do, then you could take those I have already finished and file them away in the right cabinets or sort them out according to the offices they'll be sent to. I'm sure Hawkeye won't mind explaining how it's done."

Edward nodded vigorously and took the stack of papers Mustang had subconsciously pointed his pen at. He grinned brightly and went to go and ask Hawkeye about what to do with them, leaving a baffled-looking Mustang behind.

The others looked a bit confused about how Ed had entered Mustang's office rather gloomily and came out grinning. They were used to seeing it the other way around. But then, a lot of aspects in Ed's behaviour had changed drastically since Al's death, so they shrugged their confusion away and grinned too, obviously happy for Ed even though they didn't even know the reason for the boy's smile.

Seeing that he had somehow brightened the mood of the other occupants of the office made Ed feel a warmth he hadn't had felt for quite a while. He hadn't made someone smile or grin this happily for what felt like ages. It was a good feeling.

The pleasant mood in the office was dampened somehow, however, when Havoc returned from what he had called a "latrine break" even though everybody knew he was out for a proper smoke. The usually easy going lieutenant was looking rather grim.

"Ya know, I hate to blow the whistle on someone, but this shit is getting serious," he growled.

"They're gossiping again?" Breda wanted to know, immediately catching on to what Havoc was talking about.

"Yes. The same jerk responsible, too. Think the colonel should know about this."

The other officers in the office looked up and became serious.

"I do believe the colonel knows already, just not about the new extends of it," Falman informed.

"And even if he didn't, no one's gonna blame you, Havoc. Enough is enough. That ass had it coming if he spread such a rumour. Get the colonel out here, I think this calls for an intervention," Breda said.

Havoc looked over to Hawkeye, who nodded. The blond male went over to Mustang's door and knocked.

"Hey Colonel? You mind coming out for a minute? We got some stuff to tell that might be interesting for you."

A moment later Mustang came out and went over to his smaller desk in the outer office, casually leaning against it. "Well, then tell me. Must be important if you call me out like that," he said and raised an eyebrow in question.

"You know about this rumour concerning you and the boss?" Havoc asked.

Mustang nodded and furrowed his brow, waiting.

"Well, it's going round again, only this time people tend to believe it 'cause you took the boss in with you yesterday."

Mustang kept his expression so carefully blank that it was already obvious how angry he was. "Is that so?" he asked, an edge in his voice that caused goosebumps to rise on Ed's skin.

"Yup and it's the same guy, Havoc caught him red handed again," Breda added, looking grim.

Mustang's eyes narrowed. "Mind telling me who?"

"Usually I'd hate to, but in this case: It's Fregatte, the Lieutenant from the office next door," Havoc answered, pointing his thumb at the wall to his right. There was a moment of heavy silence.

"I'll be back in a few minutes."

"Sir!" Hawkeye called after him, but Mustang was already out of the door. The Lieutenant looked like she wanted to follow for a moment, but then decided to wait. She began pacing the office.

"I think you just killed Lieutenant Fregatte," Fuery told Havoc, looking rather scared.

Havoc shrugged. "It's his fault, that disgusting creep."

Ed looked from one soldier to the other. What was going on here? He was part of a rumour? A rumour that got Mustang pissed? He went to Havoc and tapped him on the shoulder, looking at him questioningly.

"Oh, you wanna know what's going on?" the older blond asked sheepishly. "Weeellll...how do I explain it best?" Havoc looked like he didn't want to explain at all, but finally decided that Ed had a right to know. "Uh you see that guy Fregatte hates the colonel..."

"Probably 'cause Mustang stole his girlfriend," Breda snickered and received various glares for making fun of the situation.

"Anyway..." Havoc continued, "When the chief started to carry you back to the dorms, Fregatte started some ugly rumour. It wasn't that dangerous at first because...well, the colonel has his reputation with the women. But now that you stayed over with him during the night people have started thinking about it. That might make the higher ups ask some questions and this would cost the colonel some points he made up there."

Ed didn't stop looking questioningly and Havoc seemed to finally accept his fate. "The rumour Fregatte is spreading says that...well... let me put it this way: The colonel got bored with the ladies and found himself a new toy. Said toy is you."

Edward stared at him in utter shock and disgust. He looked around at the others, hoping someone would tell him that this was a sick joke. But they all looked grim and serious. Ed shuddered.

"Stupid..." he choked out, "Disgusting and stupid. Not true."

"That's what we think," Fuery piped up shyly.

But Ed wasn't listening any more. He just had a sad and frightening revelation:

This rumour was a perfectly legitimate reason for Mustang to get Ed out of his apartment.

And Ed could neither do something about it nor be angry at the colonel for it.

It went unnoticed by Ed when the office door opened again and a rather smug looking Mustang walked in. He didn't hear Hawkeye's stern question "What did you do, sir?" and he didn't see the jaws of the others fall to the floor when Mustang stopped at the door to his inner office, smirked his most sinister smirk over his shoulder and answered: "Listen to the rumours," before closing the door.

* * *

Edward more or less woke from his state of numbness when the colonel tapped him on the shoulder.

"Time to go," he said.

 _What a fitting thing to say_ , Ed thought as he stood to follow the older alchemist out of the office.

The drive to Mustang's apartment passed by in blur as Ed desperately tried to think about how he could stop Mustang from ordering him to get his things again once the vehicle stopped in front of the apartment complex. He closed his eyes tightly, waiting for the dreaded words when they stopped at the curb, but all he heard was a slightly concerned, "Are you coming Fullmetal?"

A moment of hope, but it subsided fast when he recalled that Mustang was the one who had the keys and probably didn't want to trust Ed with them. His feet felt like lead as he followed the colonel. _Well, technically one of them is made of something like lead_ , he thought miserably.

When he stepped in the apartment and still couldn't think of something that would make Mustang let him stay, he gave up. He went over to the couch to grab his suitcase and carried it to the door, waiting for Mustang to follow him out to where the car was probably still waiting for them. He just wanted to get it over with before it broke him.

"You want to go?"

The question startled and confused him. Ed stared at Mustang who looked a little confused himself and also...was he _sad_? The boy blinked, and then bit his lip. He lowered his gaze and slowly shook his head. He had nothing to lose any more, so why not admit that he wanted to stay with Mustang? Anxiously, he waited for the colonel to laugh, to make some stupid comment about how he was not going to put up with Ed without receiving anything but stupid rumours in return, just because Ed finally learned that he was nothing but a little brat who couldn't get along without an adult to look after him.

"Then why are you standing in the doorway with your suitcase in your hand?" Mustang asked, now even more confused. Ed nervously switched the suitcase from one hand to another. He needed to say something! Why did words have to be the key to things so often?

"You said...it was the first and the last time you woke me and...and that rumour..."

He couldn't force anything else out. Mustang was laughing. That cruel bastard had just wanted him to say out loud what a nuisance he was. And now that he finally stopped laughing he would deal the final blow.

"You think I'll kick you out? I meant that I just wouldn't wake you with yelling anymore! Ever heard of a bucket full of water? As for that rumour, don't worry about it. That guy will only speak about how great the two of us are from today on."

Edward's suitcase dropped to the floor, along with his jaw. He watched with wide eyes and a baffled expression as Mustang became very serious.

"I won't stop you if you want to go. But I'd rather you put that suitcase back on the couch and eat with me before we figure out how to set up your room here for you," the colonel said, grabbing the bag with today's take out from where he had put it so he could shrug off his coat. "It's your choice." With that, Mustang turned and left for the kitchen, leaving Ed to decide what he wanted to do.

Needless to say that Edward practically flew across the room to put his suitcase back in its place. He smiled as he sat down at the kitchen table and watched Mustang unpack the food.

His assumptions had been wrong.

He could stay.

One day, he decided, he might just give the damn bastard colonel a hug.


	12. Interruptions

When they finished the food, the colonel led Ed over to the room next to the kitchen. The door actually creaked as he pulled it open.

"Oh, gotta fix this," Mustang said before poking his head in the room like someone who explored new territory. He obviously deemed the place safe, because a moment later he stepped in and motioned for Ed to follow. The room was empty besides an unused bookshelf and a just as unused desk, everything covered in a thick layer of dust.

"This room was supposed to be my study one day. As you can see though, I never had the time to set it up as such and when I came to like my desk in the living room the motivation was gone as well." The colonel shrugged. "Well, comes in handy now. I think once we clean it up and get some more furniture it could be a nice room for you." He looked at Ed for his opinion.

Edward looked around with big eyes. A room for him. Mustang was willing to share his apartment with him. Letting him stay on the couch was something Ed had been able to grasp, but a real room just seemed unbelievable. It meant the colonel wasn't just taking pity on him until he got bored. No, it meant that Mustang felt determined to pull through helping Ed. Too good to be true. He looked at the colonel, eyes still wide, the question whether this was really meant written all over his face. Mustang graced him with one of his rare true smiles.

Ed didn't know what to do or say. This was so...he couldn't describe it because there were so many kinds of good feelings at the same time he couldn't pick out a specific one. But he wanted to say something, to _ _do__ something to show Mustang the happy chaos inside of him. So he turned towards the colonel, lifted his foot to step over to him, and the phone rang.

Both alchemists jumped. "That better be important!" Mustang growled as he went back into the living room and practically ripped the earpiece from its cradle. "Mustang speaking!" he said in a very icy form of polite.

Ed sighed. The moment was ruined. He shuffled back into the living room too and sat down on the couch. At least the phone call seemed to be important, judging by Mustang's serious face. He watched the colonel jot down some information and promise he'd be there in a few moments. At last, Mustang placed the phone back down and combed his fingers through his hair.

"There has been another murder," he explained with a sigh. "I need to go there and it will take some time until I'm back. You don't have to wait for me though, you can go to sleep and I'll just sneak in quietly when we're done with the crime scene."

Ed nodded his understanding. Mustang nodded back and went to fetch his uniform jacket. Because of Ed thinking he had to leave, the colonel hadn't changed out of his uniform before eating, so his jacket was all he had to grab. He put it on and went over to the door. When Mustang walked past the couch, he extended a hand and ruffled Ed's hair without stopping in his steps.

"We'll start with the room on the weekend," he told the baffled boy, smiling ever so slightly.

Ed sat and stared as the colonel waved once over his shoulder and left the apartment. Slowly, he lifted his left hand and patted his hair, smoothing out his bangs just to check whether they had really been tousled by the colonel. He smiled when he realised that his hair indeed was in disarray. However, his smile changed into a scowl soon enough. The bastard had flattened his antennae!

But then, he hadn't done it to mock Ed, so Edward wouldn't be resentful. He just made the hair stick up again and continued smiling. And when two hours later the colonel tiptoed back into the apartment, he fell asleep with the first nice dream since his brother died.

* * *

He woke to Mustang poking him in the shoulder and telling him to get up. Remembering the comment about a bucket full of water, he chose to sit up and show he was awake. They were mostly silent until they reached HQ, apart from the occasional comment or question from the Colonel concerning breakfast. But somehow neither of them really minded walking next to the other in silence because it wasn't tense, but an amicable sort of it.

They all did their work and when Ed was through with his papers he resumed his task of yesterday and filed away whatever the colonel finished.

"Huh, he actually got the colonel to work without complaining!" Breda said, baffled and watched Ed grab the next paper.

"Apocalypse is near," Fuery whispered in fear.

The four male subordinates looked over at Hawkeye who watched as the colonel finished paper after paper just to keep Ed busy with a really funny expression somewhere between surprise and jealousy that even left Falman grinning in amusement. Until Hawkeye glared at them that is.

Sometime after lunch Havoc retreated from the office for his "latrine-break" and Breda and Falman followed to actually go to use the bathroom. When they came back, they all looked rather amused.

"Colonel, you are pure evil," Breda explained when Mustang raised a questioning eyebrow at the man.

"Now, if that was true then the rumour wouldn't have been a lie," the colonel said dryly.

"Okay, you're just partly evil." Breda grinned.

"The bigger part! How dare you abuse your gift like that!" Havoc howled in an exaggerated way.

"What did he do?!" Hawkeye immediately asked, sensing her chance to find out what had happened to one Lieutenant Fregatte. Havoc and Breda just snickered darkly so she looked at Falman.

"Apparently, the colonel walked into the office next door and asked for Lieutenant Fregatte. When the man was pointed out to him, the colonel told him the reason he was there and then proceeded to give him a logical and reasonable lecture about just why those rumours are not true and that there would be a court martial if Fregatte ever dared to tell such lies about a superior officer again, effectively making Fregatte look bad in front of everyone," Falman explained.

Hawkeye raised an eyebrow. "This seems like pretty mature behaviour, I can't see why you're snickering like idiots."

"Well, it seems like the colonel finished setting things right by telling Fregatte that if what he just said wasn't enough to shut him up, then the colonel would show him just how tired of women he is by stealing every single girlfriend Fregatte will ever have away from him until the day the colonel got married," Falman told. "Afterwards, he apologised to Fregatte's commanding officer for distracting his subordinates and came back here."

Hawkeye blinked. "Is this a joke?"

"Not when it comes from _ _him__ ," Havoc said, dramatically pointing a finger at Mustang, who watched them all with a look of fake innocence on his face.

"From what I heard everyone thinks that Fregatte's got no chance against the colonel when it comes to women." Falman pulled out the bet book that included the bets that were not only office intern, sensing a chance to make money.

"He'll pull it off without a problem; we __all__ have no chance against __him__!" Havoc whined on.

"Yeah, especially __you__!" Breda laughed. Havoc slumped, an aura of depression around him.

Hawkeye shook her head and sighed. "You men really are strange creatures." She looked at Mustang. "Just date the girls at least three times before you dump them!" she then demanded.

"Will do," Mustang said with an indifferent shrug.

They were interrupted by a knock on the door. It was a soldier from investigations who brought a new file for them.

"Seems like Erlking and Beagle are off the hook. Both of them were still in custody when yesterday's murder took place," Havoc explained once he had overcome his depression and thumped through the new papers.

"That means we're back to nothing," Hawkeye asserted, not very happy.

There was a moment of silence. Ed thoughtfully stared at the papers in Havoc's hand and thought about what he knew about the case. Now all the people on the list were off the hook. He furrowed his brow. They had a list of people who borrowed it during the last five years, but...

He looked at Mustang and said, "Old."

The colonel blinked and scowled slightly. "As much as I appreciate it that you find it in yourself to joke about me again, this was neither creative nor the right moment Fullmetal."

"The book!" Ed clarified indignantly.

"You mean because it's old there should be people who borrowed it before the last five years?"

Ed nodded but Mustang shook his head. "The book has been buried in the military archives before, ever since the guy who put it there no-one was allowed to look at it. It was first taken out of the archives when the military searched for useful alchemy in warfare dur-..." Mustang trailed off and his eyes widened. "I'm an idiot!" He turned to Ed "How did you know about the existence of the book?"

"You...told...me," Ed answered, confused.

"Exactly! We looked for the people who obviously read the book but not for those who recommended it to them and therefore know about its contents too! I know about it because I knew the guy who was asked to research it for arrays useful in mass extermination. What if someone else talked to that alchemist and got more information from him than me?!"

The colonel stopped pacing.

"Fuery!" he barked.

The young soldier jumped and stood at attention. "Yes, sir?!"

"I need a really, __really__ safe phone line."

"Uh the safest I can think of is the one in my apartment," Fuery said.

"Good, let's go." Mustang fished a small black notebook from his briefcase that was commonly known to hold all the phone numbers of the girls he conquered, though his trusted ones knew that it held much more. He turned to walk out of the office, but halted and stuffed the notebook back into the briefcase and fished out something else instead. It was his bunch of keys. He selected one and walked over to Ed, holding it out for the boy to see.

"Working hours are almost ending so it would be useless for me to come back into the office when I'm done with that call. So how about you meet me at the apartment? This is the right key. I'll get some food on the way and be back by the time we usually arrive there, I think."

Edward nodded and took the key like it was something really precious. Even though he would be able to pick it out again easily, he kept it in his hand, not wanting to let it slip back between the others.

"See you later then," Mustang said, then grabbed his briefcase and marched to the door. "I'll update you all on my findings tomorrow, have a nice evening. Sargent Fuery!"

"Coming, sir!"

And the two black haired men left.

* * *

Hawkeye drove Edward back to the colonel's place. The boy mumbled a "thanks" and smiled at her before leaving the car and making his way up to Mustang's apartment. He put the key he still held into the lock and turned it. It felt a little strange to walk into Mustang's place without the colonel there. He closed the door behind him and put the keys onto the small table next to it, the one that Mustang always dumped his things on when he pulled off his boots and jacket, and left them there.

Ed got rid of his boots and coat and flicked on the lights in the living room. He looked around, not really sure about what to do now. At last, he did what was always a safe thing to do; he sat on the couch and stared at the bookcase in front of him. When he realised he was subconsciously squinting to read the titles on the books' spine, he decided to have a look at them and stood.

Soon he was walking from bookshelf to bookshelf, reading every title. The colonel owned a few novels that looked rather untouched, probably gifts he didn't dare throw away, and a really amazing collection of alchemy books. One might think that all of these books were related to flame alchemy, but if there were so many about this alchemy branch, then people wouldn't always wonder where the colonel found out about the secrets of this dangerous and difficult technique. So instead there were some standard books, some really rare exemplars, some new additions and some out of print books, all of them featuring other aspects of the alchemical science.

Ed was especially fascinated by one of the standard books. It was one of the oldest and most worn exemplars he had ever seen. Carefully, he pulled the book, which was a classic for beginners of alchemy, from the shelf. He thought that maybe he shouldn't do this, but then the colonel had allowed him to read his books the day before, so why not today?

Once he was about to open it though he halted his curiosity again. Mustang was an exceptional alchemist, so he must have kept it and read so often through this really simple book because it had some personal value for him. Should Ed pry into that? Well, he could argue that the colonel didn't limit which books he was allowed to read, but then the man probably didn't think that this elementary book would be interesting for someone as advanced as Ed.

Staring at the book while trying to decide, the boy realised that it looked like some things had been stuffed between the pages. Now, even a depressed and insecure Edward Elric could only take so much before giving in to curiosity. He opened the book.

Things were scribbled on the pages, additions that helped while learning. Notes were there too but Edward ignored them all because of the last sheet of paper that had been put in the book.

The things written down there were far from the beginner transmutation circles that were stuck between.

> __Water_ _

No harm, but...

> __Carbon_ _

20 kg, his brain added mechanically.

> __Ammonia:__ 4 l.
> 
> __Lime:__ 1.5 kg.
> 
> __Phosphorus:__ 800 g.
> 
> __Salt:__ 250 g.
> 
> __Saltpeter:__ 100 g.
> 
> __Sulfur:__ 80 g.
> 
> __Fluorine:__ 7.5 g.
> 
> __Iron:__ 5 g.
> 
> __Silicon:__ 3 g.

The book dropped from his hands but he didn't need it to know that the list went on with the minuscule amounts of 15 other elements. The paper fluttered to the ground as well showing the array on its other side. It was the one for human transmutation. It was roughly sketched, but enough to make him shake. Ed's legs gave out and he dropped next to the book, staring at the circle.

The curved lines seemed to laugh at him, screaming all his failures in his face. However, the array was slightly different from the one he had used; like most alchemists, the one who had drawn it had tried to alter it and make the difference that would finally make it work. He followed the lines with his eyes. What if this one was a success? What if it was the ultimate array, the one that had what Edward's array lacked?

Ed needed to test it, needed to find out whether he could bring Al back. He still possessed one arm and leg he could pay with and he would gladly give them if he just got his brother back. Jumping over to the desk, he rifled through it, searching for chalk and finding some a minute later. It was crazy but he didn't care that he had none of the ingredients on the list; his hazy mind concluded that if they were the key to the transmutation, then it wouldn't have failed on him twice. So he knelt in the relatively wide space between the couch and the front door of the apartment and started drawing the array shakily from the paper that was clutched tightly in his sweaty hand.

He knew he could die and he knew Al would be furious if there was an afterlife for them to meet in, but he didn't care. Al had been able to forgive him for talking him into the first transmutation and putting him in the armour so he surely would forgive Ed for wanting to be with him again too, right? Right? It had to be right! He frantically drew the last line, and then stood, looking everything over, his eyes hastily darting from line to line. It is said that three is a special number, so this third transmutation must be it! It had to be! And if it wasn't then it would at least end his suffering.

So he closed his eyes, took a deep breath, knelt down and held his hands out, bringing them down.

He was grabbed around the middle and yanked backwards roughly enough to press the air from his lungs. Was this how it felt to be pulled in the gate and be torn apart completely like Al had been? He didn't know, but he needed to see if he had failed, so he opened his eyes.

The circle wasn't glowing! Why wasn't it glowing?! Why was he pulled away by these hands if the circle wasn't glowing? This was wrong, something was horribly wrong! He lurched forwards, trying to reach the circle, to activate it again and set things right, but he was pulled back again. He heard a voice but he blocked it out, all that was important now was the circle that wasn't glowing. The air was completely pressed out of him when the grip around him tightened, causing his vision to blur and increase his panic. A thought shot through his light headed mind. What if the circle had been glowing while his eyes were closed, what if he had brought something back and that something was angry now, trying to kill him for daring to open the gate again?! What if the gate had sent some monster after him to properly punish him before he was killed?!

It wasn't logical, it was a stupid, childish fear, but he was in panic, oxygen deprived and desperate. He stared at the circle, and tried to fight even more to get there for it was all that was still clear to him right now. He needed to reach it and try what he could to get to Al and nothing sent by the gate would stop him.

So he clapped his hands, turned and leashed out with his blade.


	13. Aftermath

So he clapped his hands, turned and leashed out with his blade.

The blood was the first thing that made it through Ed's panicked and blurred vision. Dripping and red.

Red that was soaking through blue. Blue cloth. Military blue cloth. Military Uniform.

_...Truth didn't have black, tousled hair, didn't wear a blue uniform..._

His eyes widened as it hit him.

If Colonel Roy Mustang hadn't pulled back and raised his arm to protect himself in time, then Edward Elric would have slashed his throat.

The Colonel stood frozen, his eyes just as wide as Ed's. Slowly, like he couldn't believe what had just happened, he looked down at his bleeding right arm. He must be shocked, for he didn't say a word. He just looked at it like someone who just saw a God he didn't believe in and now was trying to figure out whether he had been hallucinating.

One part of Ed's mind was just screaming in a high pitched, pained and desperate tone while the other, barely able to make itself be heard, told him he needed to help, needed to do something about the wound he just inflicted. He stepped forward, and raised a hesitant hand but Mustang stepped back, away from him.

Ed needed a moment to understand that in his stupidity he had raised his automail hand, still equipped with the blade. The blade that was now smudged with the colonel's blood. He stared at it in shock. He had raised it against a friend, someone who only wanted to help him. Had raised it against Mustang, who just backed away from him like he was expecting Ed to want revenge for interrupting his human transmutation. Ed didn't know whether he wanted to scream, to cry or throw up.

He backed away from Mustang until he was almost standing in the transmutation circle on the floor. This seemed to bring life back in the colonel. The pale face looked up, having an empty expression that told nothing about the thoughts running behind the façade. He turned, marched over to the kitchen and grabbed a clean towel from the stack under the sink before tying it around his arm. Once he was done he pulled a bowl from the cabinet and filled it with water. He snatched a rag before taking the bowl and carried it over to the array on the ground.

The water splashed on the floor, effectively smudging the array. Ed flinched at the sudden sound. Without a word or a look at Ed, Mustang knelt and started to scrub at the array. He slowed his movements when he came closer to Edward, but didn't stop. Edward could see the colonel's muscles tense though, like he was waiting for Ed to try and defend his array once Mustang was within his reach.

A few drops of blood fell from the makeshift bandage around Mustang's arm, but he just wiped it away with the water and the chalk, his face still blank. Once again Edward felt the urge to help, to wipe away the array himself and erase his horrible mistake. But the way Mustang got ready to jump backwards when Ed made a step towards him left the boy frozen. He remained like a statue, automail arm stiff at his side, until Mustang had finished cleaning the floor and stood.

The colonel went over to the book Edward had dropped on the floor when he found the transmutation circle on the note within it. He picked it and the various papers that had fallen from it up, stuffed the notes back in and closed it, not caring that the blood he dripped on it would glue the pages together once it dried. With the book tucked underneath his uninjured arm, the colonel brought the bowl and the rag back to the kitchen. Afterwards he made his way to the bathroom. It would have been much faster to just walk past Ed, but Mustang chose the longer way and walked around the couch.

Ed stared at the colonel's back as he vanished through the bathroom door. He remained in this position for a while, only now he was looking at the closed door, tears brimming in his eyes. Blinking them back, he dropped his gaze, but now it fell on the bloody automail blade. Ed swallowed hard and then ran over to the kitchen. He held the blade in the sink, watching water run over it for what seemed like hours. After a while he managed to pull it away, dry it and transmute it back.

Shaking, he made his way across the water and chalk smudged floor, collapsed on the couch and cried himself to sleep.

* * *

Mustang talked and yawned like normal as he woke Ed up, but he didn't poke him in the shoulder. He asked what Ed wanted for breakfast and didn't place the filled plate in front of Ed like usual. Instead, he leaned over from the other side of the table and put it down in the middle of the wooden surface, leaving it to Ed to pull it closer. He didn't roll up his sleeves to do the dishes, but pulled on some rubber gloves that reached to his elbows so he wouldn't get his wounded arm wet. On their way to HQ he wouldn't just walk closer to Ed when an oncoming pedestrian needed to get past them, but would let himself fall behind and walk after Ed until the sidewalk was clear again. And Ed couldn't hate him for it.

But it still hurt. The colonel would act perfectly normal towards him, but there were all these small things that kept some distance between them and destroyed the illusion. Mustang had lost his trust in Ed. There might have been a day when Havoc was right with saying that the colonel never believed Ed would hurt any of them, but these days were over now. Because selfish and stupid Edward Elric had failed again.

The other soldiers could sense something was wrong, but received no real answer, neither to questioning glances nor to voiced questions. Ed would just shake his head and bury his head in his arms and Mustang would only say "Just a bad dream, nothing more," before dismissing them with a tone that shut up any further questioning. Only Hawkeye dared to march into the colonel's private office after Mustang had retreated there. After a while the both of them left the office. Ed knew she was dragging the colonel to the infirmary to get his arm looked over.

It was too much for the boy. He excused himself and went to the men's bathroom where he splashed cold water into his face, trying to wash away his exhaustion and fear and every other evidence of what had taken place last night. Once he felt his face was clean enough he tried to let himself become numb. Easiest way to get through the rest of the day, and easiest way to avoid thinking that the other soldiers of the team might find out what he had done. He knew he couldn't take it if he lost their trust, too. He also knew he didn't deserve their trust, but he needed it because if there was no-one to help him, then how should he ever manage to get back on his feet and redeem himself?

But then, could he really force his presence onto them anymore? He was dangerous, uncontrollable. He had proved that yesterday. And he was useless to them because he knew he wouldn't manage to take on a mission at the moment and even though his helping with paperwork was nice for them, it wasn't exactly necessary. So there was no reason for him to stay that would outweigh the danger he brought upon them. He should just run and keep them safe. Search for a nice cave in the woods far away and live there, no contact with anybody, just some letters to tell Winry he was all right so she wouldn't cry. He tucked his red coat tighter around himself, dried his face that wasn't only wet from the water from the sink and left the men's facilities. Left HQ.

Ed didn't have an exact plan about where he was going. He just followed the streets in hope that at some point he would reach the end of the city. When he crossed the same street a second time though and realised that his subconsciousness had him running in circles because his heart still couldn't grasp the fact that it would be better if he stayed completely alone from now on, he ducked into the next alley, sat against a wall and buried his head in his arms.

He remained sitting there until it was almost completely dark, trying to make himself get up on his feet again and leave the city, but he was too exhausted, too tired of everything. But then he heard a car hitting the brakes hard.

"There he is!" the MP who exited the vehicle called out to his comrades. Edward's head shot up. _No!_ What did they want? The MP made his way over to him and Edward panicked. He couldn't let them drag him back; he needed to stay away from everyone! He jumped to his feet and ran. Funny how he couldn't even convince himself to get up and make a single step forwards only a minute ago and now here he was racing away from the yelling MPs.

Edward dashed through the alleys, jumped over fences and whatever else came into his way. He saw more MPs and other military personnel and knew they were trying to corner him. His lungs burned as he tried to escape them all. But then he turned a corner and crashed right into one of the blue clad figures. He stumbled backwards one step, but caught himself and immediately tried to run past the officer. The next thing he knew his head snapped to the side from a well placed slap.

Blinking in confusion, he touched his stinging cheek and looked up at the officer.

"Don't you ever dare to run away again!" a panting and seething Roy Mustang hissed. "Do you know how worried you had us? I thought you were out here trying to kill yourself or do that damn transmutation again! Couldn't you just lock yourself in the bathroom to sulk?!"

Ed flinched from the tone of voice, but wasn't really listening. He could see the colonel's hands twitching yet Mustang didn't grab him by the collar to yell in his face properly like he would have if Ed had upset him that much two days ago. Instead he stayed almost three feet away from Ed and was satisfied with just yelling. Ed let his head drop and stared at the floor, not able to face the broken trust anymore, and Mustang finally ceased his angry lecture.

"Get in the car," the colonel ordered feebly, one hand pressed over his eyes, his voice sounding tired.

Edward did as he was told. Would the colonel take him to some mental ward now? Well, at least it would keep Mustang and the others safe if Ed was locked away, so the boy actually hoped for it.

Mustang got in and sat in the passenger's seat a minute later. He reached for the radio most military cars had in the front. Ed didn't notice that the colonel was calling the other search teams to thank them and tell them to go home because he had found Ed. He only noticed that Mustang was keeping a distance and wasn't in the back seat with him.

* * *

Finally, they reached the colonel's apartment. They had once again collected some take out on the way, but neither alchemist felt like eating. Mustang just left it in the kitchen and walked over to Ed who was huddled on the couch, the blanket tightly around him. The boy felt cold and tired and desperate.

"Mind if I sit?" the colonel asked calmly.

Ed felt a lump in his throat. Mustang was asking if he could sit on his own couch. Had he reduced the bossy colonel to this? He nodded, desperate for any kind of attention Mustang was still willing to give him. The colonel sat on the other end of the couch. He looked tired.

"Why did you run away?" he asked, trying to catch Ed's eye but the boy looked away and shook his head. Mustang sighed and scratched the side of his neck, like he just didn't know what else to do. He sat like this for another minute, sometimes opening his mouth like he wanted to say something but then decided against it and closing it again. In the end, Mustang stood, went to the kitchen and got a mug filled with water. He sat it on the coffee table next to the couch for Ed and looked at the curled up boy with tired eyes.

"I guess you won't talk today, huh? Well maybe if you had some sleep. I'll pester you again tomorrow, maybe then I'll even know what to say..." With that, the colonel turned and went to leave the room and Ed couldn't take it anymore. He scrambled off the couch and followed him.

He reached out and grabbed Mustang's shirt. The black haired man froze when Edward fisted the smooth fabric with his left hand. Slowly Ed stepped forward and rested his forehead against the right side of Mustang's back. The boy felt the colonel stiffen in surprise and insecurity and it made him grab the shirt even tighter. He hated to hear that his voice was so weak but he couldn't help it, he needed to say it, no matter how it sounded.

"I'm sorry, I never wanted to hurt you, I'm so sorry I cut your arm! Please, _please_ , don't ever think I _wanted_ to do so!"

Ed felt the warm body his head was leaning against shift and brought his automail hand up to fist it in the colonel's shirt, too. He couldn't feel the body's warmth or the fabric with this hand but at least it would make it more difficult for Mustang to pull away.

"Please don't be afraid of me!"

Mustang's arm moved and Edward tensed and buried his face deeper in the colonel's back, waiting for the arm to push him away. But all Mustang did was very slowly and very tenderly put the arm around Edward's shoulders and turn as far as he could with his shirt gripped tight, until Ed was leaning against his side instead of his back.

"I'm not afraid of you. In fact I thought you were afraid of _me_. I stayed away from you because I didn't want you to feel cornered. I thought it would help if I gave you some room to calm down, I know you don't want to hurt anyone."

The boy slowly lifted his head and looked up to see the colonel give him a sad smile.

"I'm not very good with comforting people," Mustang admitted.

Ed just buried his face in Mustang's side again and slipped his arms around him.

"Just don't make them feel pushed away, that's all people want from you," he mumbled into the colonel's shirt.

Edward felt Mustang's arm tighten around him. "I'll remember that."

The boy nodded, and relished the warmth he felt for a moment, but then pulled away, remembering something. "I should go," he whispered.

Mustang hesitantly loosened his arm enough for Ed to be able to get away, but didn't let go completely. "What makes you think so?" he asked, thoughtfully staring in the air in front of him.

"I'm dangerous," Ed simply said.

Mustang snorted. "If you were dangerous you would have ripped me to pieces and used said pieces to fuel the transmutation. You're just an upset idiot."

"I hurt you!" Ed gripped Mustang's arm from where it was around his shoulders and pulled the sleeve up to reveal the bandage.

Mustang hissed in pain from the rough treatment of the arm, but shrugged again."I had it coming. I mean, if I hadn't panicked too I could have guessed what would happen if I grab you from behind in a panic, couldn't I?"

Ed hung his head and let go of Mustang's arm. He couldn't deny the fact that Mustang did have a warning when he first tried to turn his blade against his friends in the office.

"What if it happens again?" he asked quietly and shivered at the thought.

"It won't," Mustang stated firmly.

He stared at the colonel with big eyes. So there really was trust in him still? "How do you know?"

"It is said three is a special number. You failed with that transmutation three times. Don't you think you've learned your lesson?" Mustang asked with a raised eyebrow.

Edward clenched his fists and nodded. He would never touch that transmutation circle again. He would feel the watch with the two dates in his pocket and see Mustang's blood on his automail whenever he even thought about that array.

Mustang smiled. "Well, then you're neither dangerous nor do you need to go."

Ed just stared at him with wide eyes for a while, then leaned forward again and let the colonel hold him in their awkward side hug for a while longer, smiling into Mustang's shirt until he almost fell asleep standing and the older alchemist guided him back to the couch with a small chuckle and a warm, "Good night, Edward."


	14. The classic: A Nightmare

_...So he clapped his hands, turned and leashed out with his blade. The blood was the first thing that made it through Ed's panicked and blurred vision. Dripping and red. It ran down from the neat cut in Mustang's throat, soaking the front of the uniform jacket. The Colonel made a choking sound before dropping to his knees. He lifted his head one last time and his gaze fell on Ed, and Ed felt his heart constrict. He wanted to die at the look in those black eyes. No anger, no blaming, no hate. Just utter shock and hurt._

_He stepped forward, trying to get to the colonel but Mustang fell forwards and was dead before he could reach him. Ed dropped to his knees and turned him around, screaming at him to get up again but his voice didn't seem to leave his mouth. Everything was too silent, Mustang was too silent. And blood was still running. Ed frowned._

_The blood was still warm. The body was still warm. All that was wrong with it was the cut in the neck. Such a little thing that needed to be fixed..._

_So he grabbed the blue uniform and started pulling, dragged him in the circle and brought his hands down. It glowed, finally the circle glowed!_

_But when the light was gone and the colonel sat up he wasn't right. His body was twisted and broken and he fell back to the ground in an undefinable heap, not able to work his body properly. Ed tried to run. He ran away from his mistake through the alleys of central until he bumped into a blue clad figure. He tried to run past it, but was grabbed by the collar and slammed against a wall. He stared at the remains of Roy Mustang's face._

_"You won't get away Fullmetal. Look at what you have done to me! First you kill me, and then you won't let me stay dead and make a monster out of me? Oh no, I put up with you long enough, I won't accept this mistake of yours!"_

_The once so smooth voice burned in his ears like fingernails scratching down a blackboard. The malformed hands grabbed him tighter and the bloodshot black eyes drilled into his fear-widened golden ones._

_"I'm sorry," Ed whispered, "I'm sorry..."_

_"Sorry doesn't help me you little brat. The only thing that would help is if you would at least fix your second mistake concerning me." The remains of Mustang took hold of his automail blade, lifting it so it lay against the half healed neck. "The dead are supposed to stay dead, Fullmetal."_

_"I can't, I can't..."_

_"Oh, why not? You did it once, so why not twice? You put me through this and expect me to have mercy on you now? Kill me for good Fullmetal...let me have my peace." It smirked and grabbed his automail arm tighter. "That's an order."_

_He wanted to scream as he felt his blade being pushed down but he couldn't. He could only close his eyes and try to push the dead body off him as it fell forwards and soaked him with blood..._

Edward could feel himself waking. He was trashing around, trying to get rid of the blood on him and leave it behind in the world of nightmares. But just when he was about to open his eyes and stop flailing, wetness splashed over his arm.

Edward froze, feeling the liquid tickling down his arm, seeping his shirtsleeve. No, that couldn't be, the nightmare was over, had to be over, there shouldn't be any more blood! He couldn't have killed the colonel! The boy jumped off the couch, but the wetness on his arm didn't leave.

He ran for the bathroom. Blood, he had to get rid of the blood, then everything would be right again, had to be! Pulling the shirt off, he threw it away from him and turned the water on. Not bothering to get out of his pants, he pulled the shower curtain close to shut the world out and curled up underneath the shower spray. Shutting down every brain process, he just focused on the water that would wash away his sin.

* * *

He didn't know how long he had been sitting at the bottom of the tub, water raining down on him, when there was a knock at the bathroom door. The sharp sound echoed through his mind, pulling him out of his shell even though he struggled to stay numb. He curled in on himself even more.

"Fullmetal?"

NO, it was back, it was back! He pressed his forehead against his knees and put his arms around his head, trying to hide himself under the limbs.

"Okay that's it, I'm coming in!"

Ed flinched, his breath hitching. He heard the door opening and closing and then there was a silhouette behind the shower curtain. He shivered, but glanced up from underneath his arms and squinted. The silhouette looked normal...

"Is everything alright? You've been in here for quite some time."

And the voice was smooth like always, it even held some warmth and concern. Was it a trap, could the _thing_ act? If even a little bit of the real Mustang was still within the monster, then it sure could. The colonel knew how to suppress emotions, so the monster should be able to make him think he was safe too...

He looked down at his automail. Should he get ready to defend himself? No. Never again. The only one who deserved this blade slicing through his skin was Ed himself. He would die before raising it against a friend again. Even if said friend was now a monster. A monster he had created.

He squeezed his eyes shut, waiting for his fate.

"Okay, if you don't answer me now, I'll just assume that you forgot to turn off the shower and went back to sleep, which means I'll pull that curtain away in 10, 9, 8, 7, 6, 5, 4, 3, 2, 1...now."

Ed bit his lip as he heard the curtain being pulled away. A long moment of horror-filled silence.

"Holy shit, Fullmetal!" Mustang reached out to close the tap, hissing when the far too hot water met his skin. That got a reaction out of Ed. He jumped and reached for the faucet to turn the water on again. No water meant blood and blood meant his nightmare was real.

Once the wet element started to rain down on him again, he finally dared to look up at what he hoped was nothing that proved the cleaning water wrong. The Mustang standing over the tub, staring at him in shock looked indeed just like his normal self. No malformed limbs, no blood, no monster. Ed felt relieved tears join the shower water while trailing down his cheeks.

Mustang seemed to regain his composure again. He even folded his arms in front of his chest, a stern expression on his face.

"Okay, let's make a deal: You can stay in the shower if you talk to me and at least allow me to turn the temperature down. If you don't accept, then you leave me with no choice but to drag you out of there by force, 'cause I'm not going to let you continue this! Choose wisely."

Ed felt his heart warm. There was the bossy colonel he knew. No monster. The water did a good job with the blood. "Deal," Ed agreed quietly.

Mustang nodded and reached for the faucet. Ed felt himself relax. Be it because the colder water soothed his reddened, and partly starting to blister skin, or because Mustang still looked like himself and stayed true to his word and let him stay in the shower, Ed couldn't tell.

"So... what's wrong?" Mustang asked, as he closed the lid of the toilet and sat on it.

Ed opened his mouth and closed it again. He didn't want to speak and didn't know how to without sounding crazy, but he knew he had no choice because the colonel would take him away from the safety of the running water if he acted against the deal. But how was he supposed to explain?

"In my experience, sitting in the shower for an hour in the middle of the night with the water hot enough to burn your skin means you've had a nightmare and are trying to wash it away. Is it that?"

Edward stared at the colonel. Mustang's voice was uncharacteristically quiet. The older alchemist was leaning forward so he could rest his elbows on his knees and his chin on his interlaced fingers while he looked at the opposite wall. Though now he slowly turned back to Edward, waiting for an answer. Still a little surprised, Ed nodded.

"Care to tell me what it was about or at least what you want to wash away?"

Edward looked down at his hands. "Blood," he whispered. "There was so much blood."

Mustang nodded slowly, encouraging Ed to go on, and somehow Ed felt that he could, at least a little. There was something in Mustang's eyes that told him that the colonel would neither laugh, nor judge nor call him crazy but could understand Ed very well.

"Usually...when I have a bad dream it...it ends when I wake up, but this time...this time it was still there, the blood was still there, it splashed all over me! All over me!" He started shaking. "And it was yours..."

Mustang stood and picked up Ed's discarded night shirt. "There is no blood Ed," he said with a gentle voice and held up the shirt. He left the room and Ed was about to scream, scream for the colonel to come back and not abandon him because he thought he was crazy, but Mustang was back already. "And there is no blood on the couch either." He held up an empty mug. "It felt wet because you knocked over the water I put on the coffee table for you."

Ed stared at the mug, then at Mustang. Water? The colonel couldn't have put any water there, Ed killed him. The monster was toying with him. "I slit your throat," he told the colonel. "You're dead."

Mustang raised an eyebrow and his hand to his pulse. "I think I am pretty much alive," he said with a small smirk.

Ed frantically shook his head "I brought you back. Now you are toying with me for revenge."

"You didn't kill me. This was not deadly." The colonel pulled the sleeve of his light blue pyjama shirt back and showed Ed his arm. The boy stared at the bandage around it. That was right. He had slashed just the arm, just the arm! Slowly, Mustang came over to the tub, kneeling next to it.

"Hold out your flesh hand," he ordered.

Edward hesitantly did as he was told. Mustang carefully took the boy's hand and placed two of Ed's fingers on his unscathed neck. Ed jumped when he felt the colonel's pulse. He pressed his fingers a little harder against the pale skin, taking in every small _thump_ he could feel with relief.

"See, I'm alive and my throat is just fine," Mustang said. "There's no need for you to wash blood away. Nightmares are just that: nightmares. They can never follow us into reality. I don't think you're crazy because of this though, because the aftermath of something is much worse than the happening itself, quite often. It's okay to be distressed and need time to process what you have dreamed about. However, it's not okay to hurt yourself because of it. If you think it helps to shower, please use water that doesn't cook you alive."

Edward blinked, confused about Mustang's calm, gentle words. He was tempted to reach out and hold the colonel next to the tub so he could feel the pulse a while longer when Mustang stood, but he felt that would be awkward so he let him go. The colonel fetched one of the few really fluffy towels he possessed. He held it out towards Ed and slowly the boy turned off the water.

For a moment Ed was very still and tense, waiting for the blood to come back and for Mustang's form to change into the ugly result of a human transmutation, but everything stayed as it was. He let out the breath he didn't know he was holding. Mustang patiently waited for him to get out of the tub and then draped the towel around Ed's shoulders.

"I'll go fetch you some dry night clothes, so get dry," the colonel said.

Ed nodded and slowly started to dry himself off. The fabric of the towel bit into the damaged skin on his shoulder. He pressed his lips together and made sure it didn't touch his shoulder again.

He felt cold, so he was still huddled in the towel when Mustang came back with one of the t-shirt and shorts combinations Edward called his sleepwear. The colonel took one look at Ed's exposed shoulder and went over to the bathroom cabinet. He rifled through the cabinet in a way that indicated that he actually knew exactly where the thing he was searching for was but was just keeping himself busy so Edward could change without feeling uncomfortable.

"Wait with the shirt," he instructed while pulling out a small pot.

Ed just changed into dry pants and nervously held the shirt in his hands. The colonel put the small pot next to the sink and came over to Ed with a smaller and smoother towel than the big and fluffy one he had given Ed before. He reached out but waited for Ed to nod his consent before he began to very carefully dry Ed's shoulder.

"The skin seems more irritated than really burned, good thing the water here doesn't get _that_ hot," the colonel absent-mindedly mumbled. Then he walked over to the sink and grabbed the small pot. He held it up for Ed to see. "This ointment should soothe the skin and help it heal. You wanna put it on yourself or shall I?"

Ed held up his automail hand with a contrite expression.

"Oh, yes, sorry," Mustang said, realising fast that applying ointment with automail wasn't very smart and reaching to your left shoulder with your left hand was a little difficult as well. The colonel got a small cotton ball from his first aid kit and very gingerly started to put the ointment on Ed's blistered shoulder and for good measure on every reddened part of his back. It stung a little for the first few seconds put afterwards the cooling substance was a blessing.

"There you go," Mustang said, looking his work over.

"Thanks," Ed mumbled with a shy smile.

"You're welcome. But please don't do it again," the colonel answered, his voice slightly scolding. He smiled when Ed nodded. Then, he yawned. "Well, let's try and catch some last hours of sleep, all right?"

Ed followed him back in the living room. He sat on the couch and watched as Mustang went over to the kitchen and threw the cotton ball in the waste bin.

"I think you can put your shirt on now, the ointment should have dried," he said, slightly amused about how Ed was still awkwardly clutching his sleep t-shirt in his hands.

Ed carefully pulled the shirt on. Thankfully, his skin didn't protest. Whatever Mustang had put on his shoulder was really good stuff. He lay down and pulled his blanket up to his chin when Mustang made to cross the living room to go to his bedroom.

Edward's gaze fell on the bookcases on the opposite wall. "Colonel?" he inquired, his voice barely audible.

"Hmhm?" Mustang hummed his questioning answer.

"Why...was that array... in your book?" He couldn't see Mustang but he could hear him stop in his tracks. For a moment Ed thought the older alchemist wouldn't answer but then Mustang said, "You scratch dates in your watch. I put notes in my book."

Ed sat up to stare at Mustang in shock, scanning his body for evidence. "Did you...did you...?!"

"No, I didn't. Hughes slapped some sense into me before I got too deep into it," Mustang admitted calmly. Then a sad smile crossed his face. "Though now that he isn't here anymore I had been fairly tempted to try again. Ironic, huh? I want to bring him back so he can slap me and stop me from bringing him back."

Edward looked at Mustang who was still standing there, smiling his sad little smile at the still slightly chalk smudged floor, and clenched his fists.

"You stopped me. I'll stop you," the boy said with resolve.

Mustang chuckled. "Equivalent exchange, huh?" He paused thoughtfully. "Well, that's what we alchemists do." The colonel became serious again and walked over to Edward, holding out his hand. "Deal. You can slap me if I do something stupid."

Ed shook his head and pushed the hand away. "No, I won't slap you." He grinned at Mustang's dumbfounded expression. "I'll dump water on you; that's what renders you harmless for real!"

The colonel slumped, sighed and rolled his eyes. "I should have known your _little_ brain would come up with something like that."

Edward glared at the colonel. Mustang retorted with his smug smirk.

The world seemed to be a bit better.


	15. Rainclouds on a Sunny Day

Edward woke up to bright sunlight filling in through the living room window. He relished the warm shine it provided for a while before wondering why it looked like it was already noon. Today was Friday, meaning a work day. Did he sleep in? No, he had an alarm clock called Colonel Bastard that would poke him until he was awake, so it was impossible that he had slept in. Unless Mustang slept in, too.

He sat up, debating whether he should knock on the colonel's bedroom door, when he realised that his silver pocket watch had been placed on the coffee table next to the couch. Once again it had been utilised as a paperweight. Rolling his eyes good-naturedly he took the note that was clamped underneath it and unfolded the paper.

> _I slept in so much that Hawkeye will shoot me, so because of damage control I can't wait for you to get ready too. Make yourself some breakfast whenever you wake up, but please don't burn down the house while cooking. The bastards from the insurance company already charge me enough because they consider me a fire hazard, I don't even want to imagine what they would want me to pay if there really was a fire in my apartment. Anyway, when you're done with breakfast and getting ready call the office for someone to pick you up._
> 
> _Sincerely,_
> 
> _Colonel Roy Mustang, Flame Alchemist, probably shot dead by now_

Ed couldn't help but grin a bit. The idiot colonel didn't have time to wake him up but took the time to write a note? He couldn't have been more obvious about letting Ed sleep in on purpose. He was a bit grumpy that the colonel thought he was such a kid that he needed his ten hours of sleep every night, but on the other hand he appreciated Mustang's subtle ways of concern. As long as the colonel was still caring for him, Edward knew that even though he had screwed up a lot (especially recently), there was still hope for him to get better.

So, Ed put the note with the others in his journal and started to get ready. He made himself breakfast without burning the house down, and then walked over to the phone on Mustang's desk. He knew the number of the office by heart but when he started to dial, he paused. Why should he bother Mustang and his team to send someone to pick him up? Mustang and he usually walk to the office in the morning and the weather was just fine, so why not walk now, too? He placed the phone back down, grabbed his things and set off.

Edward walked down the streets to Central HQ, though after he had walked half of the way, he frowned. There was a group of MPs running over to an alley not far away. A single MP was already standing at the entrance of the alley, waving for the others to come over fast. Ed pondered whether he should ask what was going on. They were shutting off the alley like they did with crime scenes. Maybe he should go and try to help them out somehow? His curiosity took over so he walked over and flashed his silver pocket watch to them.

He should have stopped when he saw how green their faces were. He should have stopped when they only very reluctantly let him pass. But he was stupid and ignored the signs. Now he was standing in front of a corpse. A corpse left behind by the serial killer. A corpse that looked very much like the results of human transmutation. His stomach churned.

"Sir?" one of the MPs carefully asked.

Edward ignored him. He swayed and stumbled backwards. Eventually he just dropped to the ground. Then he knelt there, staring at the remains of a face that was twisted in pain. He had the feeling those dead eyes stared right back at him. Would this have been the pain-filled, desperate look Al and his mother would have given him had they had the chance to, had he not transmuted their eyes into those inhuman, red glowing _things_?

Panic welled up in him, but he forcefully pushed it down. If only one tiny bit of his despair made it through his defences now he would snap. Ed knew that, so he gave everything he had to keep it down. But with all his energy used to hold up his shield of numbness there was nothing left to think about how he could get away from everything. So he just knelt, still and unmoving, waiting for whatever would happen with him.

Someone lifted him up, one arm under his knees, the other around his back. He still didn't dare let his shield crumble though. Whoever carried him turned away from the corpse, breaking the eye contact of it with Ed, but the boy still didn't dare relax. He felt the chest he was leaning against vibrate as the voice spoke orders. Now he knew who had picked him up. And he knew it had happened before.

Edward had sometimes briefly wondered how he had moved from the basement, where he had transmuted Al, to Risembool where he first started to become aware of things again. But it had always hurt too much to think about, so he had ignored the nagging question. Now though he knew the answer. He had been sitting there, oblivious to the world, just like now, until someone who was all the way yelling orders to his subordinates to stop them from coming down there had picked him up. And when his foggy mind had registered who it was he had only said two words.

"Burn it."

"Not today, Edward," Mustang said calmly. "This is not Al."

Edward nodded against the blue uniform jacket. Yes, this wasn't Al.

Al was now in the urn Mustang had brought to Risembool together with Ed.

The memories crashed down onto him and he tried to curl up in himself, almost causing Mustang to drop him. Edward couldn't care less; he probably would have welcomed the pain of falling down on the hard concrete. It would surly distract him from all the other pain that threatened to tear his chest apart. The colonel leaned forward to place Ed in the car just like he had done back then before he walked back down into the basement to grant Ed's wish and burn the corpse, bringing back an urn transmuted from the remains of the armour and filled with the ashes of what should have been Al's new body if the damned transmutation had worked out.

"I'll be back in a moment. Hawkeye, look after him," he had said then and said so now. And Ed frantically shook his head, grabbing his sleeve. If the colonel left now it would be like a setback in time and he knew he wouldn't survive that. His heart constricted painfully and he couldn't breathe. Then there were hands on his shoulders and black eyes staring into his golden ones.

"Count to ten," Mustang said, calmly and reassuringly.

And Ed focused on counting. He knew it would help, otherwise Mustang wouldn't have asked him to do so, right?

"Now do it again. Try to count slow and breathe in time with it."

And Ed did. The first two intakes of breath were a struggle, but then it started working out.

"Again."

He counted, his brain regaining the ability to think logically enough to understand that Mustang hadn't left, that there was a difference between now and then. It was not the same day, he would not have to see that urn again, and he would not have to frantically try to be somewhere else with his mind whilst they buried it next to his mother.

"Good. Now close your eyes and count to one hundred."

He could feel Mustang's hands vanish from his shoulders and knew the colonel was rushing over to the crime scene to have a look at it as he needed to. He clenched his fists but didn't panic again. As long as Mustang was back when his eyes opened again he would be all right. He knew that the colonel knew this. He had to, because his hands were back on Ed's shoulders at ninety-nine. Now they could both pretend he had never needed to go back and look at the corpse.

"Can you breathe right now?" the older alchemist asked. The younger nodded.

"Good. You think you can take it if we go back to HQ instead of the apartment?"

Ed nodded again. He knew the colonel was needed with the military now and he couldn't keep him all to himself. And he wouldn't want to. He wouldn't be able to forgive himself if more people had to die in this gruesome way because he kept Mustang from investigating. So he shut all thinking down, intending to wait for his turn to get the colonel's attention.

* * *

The whole team was assembled in Mustang's private office. They all tried to get Ed out off his shell first thing when they entered, but Ed ignored them all. They needed to think about their current case. So he stayed alert in case they said something about the murder that might lead to him thinking of something helpful, but every other thought process or sign that he was someone with a mind and a soul simply didn't exist. For one, the others wouldn't stop bugging him if there was a sign that he might react to them, and second he just couldn't bear all the pain he knew was to come, right now. He needed time and help. But neither was available at the moment.

"I think he put the murder as our first priority," Mustang finally understood and said, combing his fingers through his hair with a sigh after watching every one of his subordinates fail in their attempts to get Ed to participate in life again. It was rare for him to display defeat like that while on duty and therefore unusual enough to make it through Ed's bubble and surprise the boy. Did the others think of him as their priority right now? Couldn't be, he was a dog, a tool, he shouldn't be more important than their work. They should know that, they were tools themselves, used and tossed around to the higher ups contends.

"Anyway, I'll handle it later. Right now it seems like we can't do anything but our jobs." Mustang straightened his back, falling back into the behaviour of the seemingly invincible commanding officer with practised ease. "As you all know I made a phone call to someone I know from a safe line the day before yesterday. Fuery, you already know what I talked about with this person so please go and make sure no one is eavesdropping."

"Yes, sir." Fuery vanished out the door.

Mustang waited a moment, and then began. "I called the state alchemist who has been asked to research the book. This information must not get out." He paused to let the importance of this information sink in. "He was the only one of us state alchemists smart enough not to follow orders and run away before they used him as a weapon. His name was Marcoh and he is listed as a deserter. If they find him they'll probably shoot him. So keep your mouth shut."

He waited for the others to salute and give a "Yes, sir!" before continuing. "He spoke with four alchemists about that book. Major Armstrong and I gained the same amount of information because we talked to him at the same time. Then there was the Freezing Alchemist Isaac McDougal who was killed by Führer Bradley, and the Crimson Lotus Alchemist Zolf Kimbley who is in prison right now."

There was some silence. "Not exactly helpful, is it?" Havoc finally asked.

"Well, unless Major Armstrong or I have developed a split personality or McDougal came back from the dead or Kimbley broke out, no I think it isn't helpful. Though I'll have someone from investigations check Kimbley nonetheless. He is crazy but not stupid and unlike Garber he likes to kill."

"Shall I see to it that someone will be sent to investigate?" Hawkeye asked, ever the efficient worker.

"Give me a minute and I'll set up a paper with the order and some fake story about why I think it could be Kimbley."

"Yes, sir." Hawkeye and Mustang exchanged a look that said that both of them wished they would finally get the whole case done before Mustang dismissed his team to go do whatever they were supposed to be doing. The colonel reached for some form and began filling it, halting thoughtfully for a moment as he thought about an explanation that would not involve Marcoh. When he finished, he grabbed the paper and left the private office. He came back without the paper but with two mugs filled with steaming liquid and set those on the small table in front of the couch before taking a seat next to Ed.

"Case meeting is done. Will you stop bottling everything up inside now?" he inquired, sounding almost hopefully. Ed looked up to meet his eyes. The colonel just stared back for a while, reading what was offered to him. Then he leaned his head back against the couch and sighed. "I'm probably a hypocrite to talk like this... but one day keeping it all inside will be more painful than letting it out now. I recommend you speak with more than just a look."

Ed stared into the air as he, strangely detached from everything, thought about Mustang's words. Should he really just let it go for once? Risk shattering? But then again, what was there that wasn't shattered already? The colonel next to him moved and took one of the cups on the small table. Edward watched him drink from his coffee as he patiently waited for Ed to decide, and the boy came to his conclusion; Even if he shattered, he had someone to pick up the shards afterwards.

So he finally let the pain of loss take him and started to cry and sob and scream and let the world know just how unfair it was.


	16. Brat and Bastard

Edward had started to cry silently, and then had started to sob and shake. After that he had screamed into the couch pillow, drenching it in tears and hitting it over and over with his fists until his energy was all drained and he was back to sobbing. Now the sobbing had subsided as well and left him crying silently again.

There had been a time when he would have died from embarrassment before having a breakdown like this in front of anyone, especially Roy Mustang. But during those times, his problems had all been _insignificant_ enough that he could keep them to himself and he still had some energy and hope left. But Al's death had been the last straw and now he just couldn't take it anymore.

One might think that he didn't mind Mustang's presence because he was just too desperate to care about it, but actually he did care, a lot. Both alchemists were neither good at showing their concern for one another nor at comforting, but they both knew it and so they could still decipher the other's behaviour.

During Ed's outburst, the colonel did nothing but sit there, calmly sipping his coffee. For a stranger this might seem like he was nothing but a heartless bastard who didn't care in the slightest about Edward, but Ed knew that if this was the case then the colonel would have just left the room or maybe even laughed at him. But Mustang didn't leave nor laugh. Mustang sat there and waited, for two reasons.

Reason number one was that it wouldn't make any sense to recommend that Ed should just vent and let all his feelings out for once, only to stop him and calm him down with comfort half the way when he still hadn't had all of it out of his system. And Ed was grateful for that because this way he could allow himself to let it all crash down on him for once, and face every bit of his despair without having to fear being unable to get out of it again once he was in it all. With Mustang waiting to help him out, he could jump into the river of tears and know he wouldn't drown because once he had explored it and faced it he would be pulled out and saved.

Reason number two was that Mustang seemed to know exactly that it would have never been his place to comfort, or even get to see a crying Ed if it wasn't for the sheer gravity of the situation. And so, the colonel sat still, giving Ed the chance to pretend that he had never been there at all so Ed could compose himself again before facing the colonel and this way save the pride Mustang still seemed to think he had. This behaviour meant a lot to Ed because if Mustang believed he still had some pride to save it meant that for the colonel there was still some of the old Ed left, who could stand back up and walk on.

And that's why Ed didn't mind his breakdown in front of the colonel at all. He could understand why Mustang just sat there and he could understand that the colonel wouldn't think any less of him if he finally succumbed to his grief about Al for once. So when he had calmed down enough to be back to crying silently, and Mustang finally put down his cup of coffee, he felt no bashfulness and leaned against the colonel's side to get the comfort Mustang had patiently waited to give. The colonel wordlessly put his arms around him and held him close and Ed leaned his head against his chest and let the warmth he felt dry up his tears.

Edward couldn't recall the last time he had been held like this but he knew it had been his mother and he remembered the feeling of safety. He couldn't hear the soothing sound of a heartbeat for the fabric of the colonel's uniform was too thick to allow something so human to get through the blue clothes that marked him as the state's tool, but when he concentrated on the rhythm of Mustang's breathing, it was enough to calm Ed's own heart. Closing his eyes, the boy allowed himself to relax and feel the wonderful comfort of leaning onto and being held by someone who cared for him.

Ed was tired now, but it was a good kind of tired. It was the comfortable kind you get when you have had a hard day but archived something in the end. And Ed had archived some peace with his mind. He wasn't completely free of the feeling of guilt and the loss of Al was still painful and filled him with sorrow, but it wasn't unbearable anymore. Now that he had allowed himself to explode he no longer thought he could snap at any moment. And safely cradled in Mustang's arms he didn't feel alone, he now knew that the black haired man could take the problems Ed would bring with him and help him through them.

The colonel was a stubborn man who didn't mind to tactically withdraw when necessary but would never completely give up. He might not be the best when it came to comforting and Ed was sure that the both of them might stumble about mistakes on either side in the future, but he knew the older alchemist wouldn't stop trying. He would get back on his feet just like he believed Ed could still do. And that's why he decided it wasn't so bad to lean onto Mustang from time to time.

He was by no means a replacement and he didn't fill the hole Al had left, but the damn pyromaniac had managed to build a fire right next to it so the shadows in the hole didn't seem so dark anymore and the good memories could be seen once again.

Ed's tears finally stopped and he fell asleep snuggled up to someone who he once thought he would only get as close to as a fist to the face.

* * *

"...-ey're so cute, I wish I had a camera!"

"Shut up they'll kill us if they hear you say such things!"

"This is like waking up a dragon, I've got a feeling we'll be fried."

Ed stirred and blinked his eyes open as he listened to the hushed voices of Colonel Mustang's subordinates. They were standing in a half circle in front of the couch, obviously not sure about how they should wake the two alchemists without getting killed for witnessing a scene that was rather cute but not meant to be witnessed. And Ed could understand their fear because while he didn't mind snuggling up to the colonel when there was no one else around, getting caught in that position was quite embarrassing. He felt the urge to make sure none of the witnesses made it outside.

"But we can't leave them sleeping here, working hours are over..." Fuery just said.

"Yeah but I'm sure they won't mind and- oh, Ed is awake, we did our job, let's run!" Havoc squeaked and turned to flee the office, the others hot on his heels.

Ed blinked again and stared after them, baffled. Then, a rather annoyed Hawkeye marched into the room. She realised Ed was awake and smiled. "I'm sorry, I tried to keep these immature idiots in check but they just had to sneak in under the pretence that they wanted to wake you for the end of working hours."

Ed blushed as he carefully slipped out from underneath Mustang's arm and scooted a bit away from the colonel. Then, he turned to the clock and noticed that indeed work time was over. He looked back to Hawkeye, surprised and confused. The lieutenant smiled a little wider.

"The two of you have been under a lot of stress recently and the colonel worked so well while you were filing away his papers that he was for once ahead in his paperwork, so I decided to let you sleep. Though now, I think it's time to wake you. Or at least the colonel, you are obviously awake already." She then cleared her throat and in a loud and stern manner said: "Sir."

The until now peacefully sleeping colonel jumped. "Ah, Lieutenant! I'll go back to work, I didn't fall asleep!" he immediately yelped out of some instinct he probably developed over years of procrastinating and shirking paperwork. Hawkeye raised one slender blonde eyebrow. The colonel slumped. "Okay, so I _did_ fall asleep," he admitted sheepishly.

"And today I don't mind sir." Mustang's jaw dropped at the lieutenant's words. She simply smiled and told them to get ready for their ride back to Mustang's apartment.

The colonel finally regained his composure and stretched his arms above his head. "You know, if it wasn't weird I'd say you can sleep on me all day long if it gets me out of paperwork," he said with a wry grin. Ed rolled his eyes at him but smiled and got to his feet. They collected their things and followed Hawkeye out to the parking lot.

* * *

Today's drive was not interrupted by a stop at a restaurant. Ed found out why when Mustang changed out of his uniform and started rummaging around the kitchen. He couldn't help but stare incredulously.

"Don't look at me like that!" the older alchemist grumbled. "Just because I prefer take-out doesn't mean I don't know at least the basics of cooking. I mean what if I'm stuck at home because of really bad weather or because I'm ill? I can't ask my poor lieutenant to look after me then, she might not act like it but she does have a life outside of working for me." He grinned "And it impresses most women when you know how to cook. Not that I would take them home, they get to clingy if I do," he added thoughtfully.

Ed rolled his eyes but watched as Mustang proceeded to put ingredients together. The colonel was an alchemist and you could see it in the way he cooked. Alchemists would study their material, then carefully put the array together like they were taught to but then wait with activating it until they had added their own touch to it or analysed it for a way to make it better. So Mustang studied his ingredients, then put them together according to the recipe but waited with putting them on the stove until he had tasted some of it with a spoon and decided that it could use some more salt.

"So, do you feel any better now?" the colonel finally asked while he watched the sauce for their pasta cook.

Ed knew Mustang was talking about his breakdown. He looked down at the table he was sitting at, contemplating. Did he feel better? Yes he did. "Lighter," he mumbled. "Like some weight was taken off me. Not all but a lot."

Mustang nodded, absent-mindedly stirring the sauce. "That's good. I was afraid you would fall and not get up again someday if you continued carrying it all alone."

"Won't it make _you_ fall if you take weight from me? I'm sure you got enough to carry yourself." Ed retorted, watching the colonel as he calmly shrugged and smirked.

"I can carry some more, I'm bigger than you."

Ed fumed but decided to postpone his revenge for all the short jokes he hadn't reacted to.

"I'm serious, I don't want to burden you," he stated quietly, afraid that the colonel might take his words to heart and stop looking out for him, but unable to be selfish enough to keep them to himself.

Mustang turned and pointed the spoon he had used for the sauce at Edward. "Don't you ever think you're a burden to me," he said firmly. "I admit it's sometimes hard to look after you but it's no burden because I get a reward. I get to see that I helped someone back on his feet. I'm so used to bringing people down, you don't know how good it feels to finally help someone get up, because that's all I ever wanted: To make this twisted world a bit better. So I partly help you because I'm that selfish but I don't mind admitting it if it helps you understand that you are no burden to me."

The colonel turned back to the stove, his bangs obscuring his eyes as he stirred the sauce but Ed could see the firm line of his mouth. Mustang didn't like admitting personal things, but he did it nonetheless and Ed felt proud that he was worth the insight of the colonel's mind. He felt bad for pressing on but he just had to know. "You said partly. What's the other reason?" he asked, barely audible.

Mustang took his time, taking the sauce pot off the heat and checking the noodles before answering.

"I'm not sure, but I guess you little brat somehow managed to become quite dear to me."

Ed felt like his eyes would pop out of his head any moment as he stared at the colonel. The black haired man spoke so nonchalantly that the not very flattering formulated sentence could be taken as a joke, but his body language betrayed him. Mustang spoke the truth.

And Ed couldn't help but grin like a kid who got a present. Warmth spread through him and for the first time since Al's death he felt truly content and happy. He watched Mustang tense and forcefully relax as he stared at the food while he waited for Ed to say something.

Finally, Ed's grin turned into a small but still very happy smile. "I'm not sure either, but the same might go for you, stupid bastard," he admitted quietly. There was a moment of wonderful amicable silence in which they both knew that the other had a smile on his lips even though they couldn't see the other's face.

Then they both decided that they had had enough emotional turbulence for the day and the first tried to joke. Surprisingly it was Ed. "Maybe your cooking will decide it."

"Well your stomach is certainly bigger than your brain so that might happen." Mustang grinned and picked up the banter.

"My stomach needs to supply a genius with energy, of course it's big."

"If all your energy goes to your brain it would explain why there is none to make you grow."

"Well I'm rather smart than just freakishly tall like you!"

The colonel acted like he had never heard that and continued his musings. "If you ever grow I will ask you if you feel less intelligent and then I will know."

"I bet I'll be taller than you and then you get all your short jokes back!"

Mustang put a plate filled with delicious looking pasta in front of Ed. "Eat your food before you run out of energy and your brain shuts down, then we might find out someday."

Ed watched him as he sat down too, and then very quietly said: "Someday might be a long time from now."

Mustang blinked, then got the meaning and smirked a bit. "I'll have to start charging you for your room then." His smirk turned into a smile, "But then you can have it as long as you want."

Ed stared at him. "As long as I want?"

Mustang nodded and started to dig into his pasta. "We'll get furniture tomorrow."

He almost choked on his food when Ed attempted to squeeze the life out of him with a hug.


	17. A Room

It was clear that Mustang hadn't expected Ed to practically barrel into him and hug him, because otherwise he wouldn't have tried to take a bite of his pasta. Ed himself would have never expected himself to act like that either, until he was already squeezing the colonel, causing him to choke on the food he had just tried to swallow. Now he was blushing from embarrassment and clapping the colonel on the back to help him breathe again.

"Sorry," he mumbled and handed the man some water. The happiness he felt because the colonel had told him he could stay, and therefore rely on his help as long as he wanted was a bit dampened but still glowing brightly within him.

Maybe he had acted so unexpectedly because Mustang had offered it so unexpectedly. Well, not exactly unexpected. He had been able to _feel_ that Mustang would allow him to stay as long as he needed to and help him, but he had never thought he'd _hear_ the colonel say it out loud. They were quite used to silent agreements because the both of them just weren't good at allowing people to know their value for them by just telling them. They would joke and prod at people to show, like boys at school who pull girls' hair when they wanted them to realise they liked them. As smart and mature as they would act most of the time, they could be incredible idiots when it came to acknowledging their friends and other people that were dear to them. But like Ed had just proven: sometimes even they couldn't help just hugging someone.

" 's okay," Mustang managed, swallowing a bit of the water and finally regaining his composure. "Just gimme a warning next time," he then smirked.

Ed went bright red. "Not sure if you get a next time, bastard," he mumbled, but he was smiling.

They had eaten in content silence after that and afterwards Mustang had retreated to his room and Ed had read one of the colonel's books until he was too tired to stay up anymore.

* * *

This was the first weekend Edward was actively aware of since he left Risembool. When he was still staying at the dorms he more or less just wasted away, sitting on his bed while trying to get through time without the distraction of work and without snapping and going mad. But now it was different.

Even though he had stayed up rather late the night before, Ed was awake quite early the next morning. He wouldn't admit it, but he was rather excited about going to get furniture for _his_ room.

Though he didn't dare go wake up the colonel to finally start the day.

Mustang _could_ get quite grumpy if someone else than Hawkeye woke him up and even though he wasn't as afraid of annoying the colonel as he had been at the beginning of his stay here anymore, he still didn't want to test his luck. He knew that their normal bickering was still okay and Mustang's ego was still too big to be fazed when Ed called him a bastard, but he couldn't tell if the colonel only found it okay to take Ed in because he was a lot quieter than his old self. So because of this, and a bit because he felt like a five year old if he gave into the urge, he didn't go pounding on Mustang's door until the colonel came out.

He grabbed the book he had started reading yesterday, something really interesting about the deconstruction of objects into their basic materials with alchemy, and kept himself busy until Mustang came out of his room around nine.

"Huh, you're already awake? I was always under the impression that you like sleeping long," the colonel said, blinking at him and trying to flatten his hair that stood up at odd angles.

Ed stared at him. When Mustang woke him up during the week, he might still be sleepy but already had the basics of his composure together. Now though he looked really funny. Ed snickered.

"Yeah, yeah laugh at me, you don't look better when I wake you!" the colonel grumbled, albeit good-naturedly, and walked past Ed, ruffling the boy's hair so they both looked funny in the end. He went to the kitchen with a smirk and started the coffee machine while a grumbling Ed tried to untangle his hair again. Once done, the boy went over to the kitchen too.

The colonel for once proved several people who thought he couldn't function properly pre-coffee wrong when he actually realised that Ed was kind of excited, even though the boy tried not to show, and even managed to figure out why.

"I thought about where to go for the furniture," he started, calming Ed down a bit by showing that he was still planning to take him in, "and I came to the conclusion that we have two options. Option number one: We simply go to the furniture store. Option number two: We go get some timber and stuff and transmute it the way you want to."

Ed thoughtfully pondered the two options. "I think buying timber and transmute it could be fun," he finally admitted.

"Well, then that's what we'll do," Mustang said with a shrug.

So they had breakfast, got ready and then went to go get Mustang's car. Ed stared at the vehicle, trying to figure out why Mustang owned his own car when most of the time he got around in a military car with a driver. He received his answer though when Mustang shrugged and said: "We needed a getaway vehicle for undercover missions and I'm the one in the team with the biggest pay check. Also, it's quite useful to pick up informants and have them tell me what they found out while we're on our way to our cover date."

Ed took in all the small scratches that looked like the car had been chased over barley known, rough streets where pebbles flew up when the tires turned and thought that, yes, that car had seen more than the other ones seen driving through Central's streets. Luckily, they could spare the poor car from having to transport the heavy timber they bought because the man who sold it to them delivered it to Mustang's apartment and even helped them carry it in. After that they got a mattress and some sheets and pillows and a bucket of paint to renew the faded one on the walls.

Before they could start transmuting anything though, they would have to clean the room. Staring at all the dust, they silently decided to procrastinate that for a bit and eat first.

"I'll go and change into some clothes that are fit for the cleaning," Mustang said, "You better change as well. I'm not going to clean alone!" he called on his way through the living room.

And Edward went to his suitcase and pulled out the most worn version of his outfit. He changed in the bathroom and waited for Mustang. The Colonel seemed to be amused about how Ed was bouncing on the balls of his feet, but for once Ed didn't care about how childish he looked. He watched as Mustang put the few cleaning utensils his bachelor household provided on the floor in front of them, trying to figure out how to start this best. Ed had decided to keep them so there still were the desk and the bookcase in the room, and of course all the dust.

"Okay... so how about you wipe the desk and the bookshelf clean while I start on the window and carry on with the floor?"

Ed nodded. He received a cleaning rag from Mustang and after the colonel got a bucket full of water, they set to work. Edward was quick with the desk, but the upper parts of the bookshelf provided a problem. He was just too short to reach them.

"Need help?" Mustang chuckled and turned from the window that was now clean enough to think there was no pane at all. He left it open so fresh air could flow into the room and walked over to Ed.

The boy glared. "Just asking," the colonel dared to smirk. Ed stubbornly tried to reach the top shelf, making the colonel sigh. "Fullmetal, would you mind getting some new water?" he asked and pointed at the bucket. Ed scrutinised the water and came to the conclusion that it really should be replaced. So he nodded, grabbed the bucket and went for the bathroom.

When he came back, the top shelf was clean and the colonel pulled a not very convincing I'm-innocent face. Ed rolled his eyes but grinned a little.

They put the cleaning agent in the water and started on the floor. Neither of them spoke, but they both didn't mind. They felt content, working peacefully next to one another. And even though kneeling on the floor in dirty old clothes was the most uncolonel-like Ed could imagine Mustang to be, this time the boy was not afraid. Mustang was no different person, he just wasn't as shallow as Edward had always assumed.

Finally they started with transmuting things. Ed actually managed to transmute the new, light yellow paint on the wall, something that came in handy because neither of them had thought about buying a paintbrush. They watched as the bright colour crawled over the walls. One might think that Ed would have chosen a darker shade to paint his walls, but right now he felt determined to get better, and he figured the brighter colour might help. Then they set to work with the actual furniture.

Mustang raised an eyebrow when he looked over the results. "No gargoyle and demon statues?"

Ed blinked at him, confused. Mustang shrugged and smirked.

"I had to sign quite a few reports of people who complained about your style in fixing things."

Ed dared to raise an eyebrow, "You actually _read_ the things you sign?"

Mustang huffed. "Of course I do!"

The boy chuckled. He was really tired by now, but happy. He glanced over at Mustang from underneath drooping eyelids.

"I think we did a good job," the colonel finally said taking the chance to talk about something else than his habit of procrastinating. He rolled the sleeves of his worn blue shirt down from where he had rolled them up over his elbows, looked over at Ed and his smile warmed some more. "Let's call it a night. It _is_ rather late."

Ed nodded and stifled a yawn. He took his shower first while Mustang stored away the cleaning utensils. Then he stood at the door of his room, not quite daring to just walk over to the bed and slip under the covers. It just didn't feel right to inaugurate the room alone. So he waited for the colonel to finish showering.

Finally Mustang stepped out of the bathroom with still slightly damp hair, wearing pyjamas. The colonel leaned at the door frame, opposite Ed. "What are you waiting for?" he asked, smirking.

Ed walked into his room, looking at everything, and then turned around smiling.

Mustang, still leaning against the door frame, dug his hand into the breast pocket of his pyjama shirt and fished out a single key. He held it up for Ed to see.

"I do have to lay down some ground rules before I give this to you," he began.

"You can bring guests, but only people you really trust and won't snoop around. My bedroom is off limits for anyone who isn't invited in by me. Though feel free to knock and ask me for whatever you need any time."

Ed nodded. He inwardly smiled. So he was allowed to disturb Mustang with a knock on his door!

"Because you're more of a roommate than a house guest now, I will from time to time ask you to help me with the chores, like cleaning. I don't care about how tidy you are inside of this room but please don't leave stuff lying around in the living room, kitchen and bathroom. I don't mind if you, for example, store your toothbrush in the bathroom cabinet or put some food you like in the fridge, but if I trip over things of yours that lie on the floor, I will burn them. Laundry day is Wednesday. We both don't live in the dorms but we can still use the military's cleaning services so just put your laundry in the basket in the bathroom and I'll bring it away for washing with mine."

Ed nodded again, he could live with chores.

"And no alchemy experiments! If you want to test some theory come tell me and I'll get some place for you where no one needs to fear for his things being destroyed."

Ed wanted to defend himself but Mustang lifted a finger to stop him and continued.

"If I happen to bring women home with me, you don't need to run away and hide, I only bring those girls home who are less of a real date and more of an informant of mine. If I ever bring a real date I'll warn you. And you better warn me too if you don't want to be disturbed wi-"

"Mustang, don't go there!" Ed screeched, bright red. The colonel smirked.

"Sorry. Anyway, last rule: Don't get in trouble with the neighbours. They think I'm a harmless and nice military man and I want to keep it at that because it stops them from getting nosy."

Ed nodded once again. Mustang dipped his hand in his pocket for the second time and pulled out another key.

"I do own a second apartment in East City and I keep switching between my apartments according to where the military stations me. The one in the east has one more room than this one, because the east used to be my main station, and it is actually a guest room but you can have it so you're free to switch apartments with me if you want to. Over there the rules are the same as here." He held out the keys. "So, do you accept the rules?"

Edward looked at him. The colonel looked a tiny bit nervous but at the same time determined. Ed took a deep breath, smiled and tenderly picked the keys from the outstretched hand. "I accept."

Mustang chuckled, "Who would have ever thought that we will share an apartment out of our own free will and without the intention to kill the other in his sleep?"

Ed watched the light reflecting on the two precious keys as he moved them in his fingers. "Probably no-one."

"Well, I like proving people wrong," Mustang offered a small smirk. Then he finally pushed away from the door frame. "Go to sleep now, Ed," he then ordered softly, suppressing a yawn. He stood and watched with a smile as Ed crawled into his new bed. The boy looked happy like a little kid who had a great day. Tired but smiling too, Ed looked over at the colonel, his eyelids already drifting shut.

He felt safe now. He knew there was a man who wouldn't walk out on him and who he didn't feel bad to rely on even though he usually strived to be independent. Maybe because Mustang, even though he ordered Ed around in the military, outside of the job didn't try to take all the choices away from him and force him to act like normal adults thought was good for a young boy. The colonel acted like some kind of back up, letting Ed do the main operation like Ed wanted to, but when it didn't go as planned or looked like it would get out of control, he was there to step in and try to save the day. And even if, from time to time, Ed got manipulated to go in a certain direction, the boy didn't mind because he knew that when it came down to it, Mustang would never put his own goals over the well being and happiness of the people he cared for.

"Thank you," the small alchemist whispered with his happiest smile. "For letting me stay and everything else."

The colonel flipped off the lights in the room before Edward could see his expression, but Ed didn't mind for he could still hear all the wonderful warmth in the words when Mustang told him, "You're welcome."

None of them had noticed the greenish black cockroach that had climbed in when the window was open and now sat underneath the bookcase, making sure the confirmed sacrifice was well taken care of and the potential sacrifice kept busy.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Concerning Ed sleeping in a room that was just painted:
> 
> Uh, yes, I admit that was a bit of stupidity on my part. I'll just post the review (from FFN) that pointed out my error here to clear things up. Hope you'll forgive me :D
> 
> Vul:   
> Sooo. You wrote that Ed was going to sleep in his room and I was like "Wait, aren't the walls still wet?", but then I figured, Ed had probably dried them with alchemy. Then I thought "Wait, wouldn't the fresh paint, even if it was dried, still stink for quite some time?" but then I remembered that Roy's specialty is, in fact, transmuting gases, so he'd probably get rid of whatever molecules the stink consists of.  
> ...still, I felt like that should have been mentioned, not only so that people with weird thought processes like me aren't confused by this, but also to showcase a bit that Mustang is, in fact, a capable alchemist and can use that in non-combat situations (especially ones that are right up his alley), too.


	18. Revelations

Sunday morning started with someone knocking on the apartment door, loudly and insistently. Ed groaned, and tried to block it out for a moment before finally opening his eyes. At first he was slightly startled to see he was in a nice room with yellow walls, but then a smile crept on his face when he remembered that it was his room now. The smile vanished though when the annoying pounding on the front door began again. He rose from his bed and walked out of the room, entering the living room at the same time as a grumpy Mustang.

The dishevelled and not very happy colonel stalked over to the door and flung it open. His posture changed in a millisecond to professional alertness though when he was faced with a saluting soldier.

"Pardon the intrusion, sir, but we need you immediately. There has been another murder," the man explained hastily.

Mustang gave a short salute so the soldier was allowed to lower his arm. "I guess their sending you here to get me instead of using the phone means that it is rather close by?" he asked, his eyes narrowing as his sharp wit demanded a fast answer.

"Yes, sir. That, and the fact that they actually saw someone leave the crime scene and are shutting down the perimeter so they might catch them."

"Why didn't you say that immediately!?" the colonel demanded to know from the flinching soldier. But he didn't wait for an answer and turned to fetch his clothes. He probably needed approximately 43 seconds to get into his uniform. In that time Ed only managed to fix his hair in a ponytail and get his pants and his boots on, so he threw his red coat over his sleeping t-shirt.

"What do you think you're doing, Fullmetal?" Mustang asked when the boy followed him out the door.

"I'll take a look at the crime scene," Ed said, trying to keep up with the colonel's long strides as they followed the soldier out of the house.

"You are aware that this corpse will look the same as the last?" Mustang snapped, not very pleased and Ed knew the colonel was about to order him to go back to the apartment.

"I'll wait until you put a sheet over it or remove it," Ed retorted, determined. The older alchemist scrutinised Edward and the boy glared back, not giving in. He wanted to help, to prevent any more people from ending up as such a horrible mass of dead flesh.

"Of all times, the fire just had to start burning now." Mustang sighed but allowed Ed to follow.

* * *

"Wait here," was the short order when they reached the yellow caution tape. And Ed did.

He looked at some of the MPs who stood guard for the 'on an early Sunday morning unlikely case that a civilian stopped to gape'. "Are they still chasing for the person they saw or did they lose them?" he asked one of them. The woman slightly turned towards him.

"As far as I know, they lost them but we managed to cover a wide part of the town with alert men pretty fast, so we hope he or she is still around somewhere. The witness only saw the shadow of someone with a hat walking around the corner anyway, and is now pretty traumatised so we are not sure if it will be helpful in any way," she told him.

Ed thanked her and stood around waiting for a while, before there was a barked: "Fullmetal, you can come over." Swallowing hard, he ducked under the tape and walked into the alleyway. There was a white sheet over a distinctly human shaped form, the cursed transmutation circle peeping out at the seams of the fabric. Mustang stood a few feet away, talking to some other military officer but watching Ed from the corners of his eyes.

The alley was small but relatively clean. The dumpster near the wall had a few blood sprinkles on it but otherwise was unharmed.

Ed frowned. No sign of a struggle here. But the array was so big, how could people not see it and be dragged into it? "Colonel?"

The colonel finished his conversation with the other soldier and came over to him. "Yes?"

"Do you... do you know if the people were still alive when _that_ was done to them?"

"They are too... deformed to be sure if there was a knife wound or the like and there are no bullets. The toxicological test showed no drugs. And judging by their facial expressions...we think they were pretty much alive and awake until the array finished its job," Mustang explained grimly.

"People don't just lie down on an unknown transmutation circle; they wouldn't be that stupid, would they? But then, how did the murderer get them there? I can't see traces of a fight and they would have smudged the array so it couldn't work if they had struggled or resisted..."

"Maybe the killer hit them over the head so they were unconscious until the pain from the transmutation woke them. But we can't tell, their skulls are like cracked-open eggs and the brain is the yellow and white content. Though it would have been hard to get the unconscious people in the alleys without being seen, so it must have somehow happened in here. Problem is, none of the people lived near the place where they were killed. So how did they get there?"

"And why? Do you think the murderer contacted them and made them come to the alley?"

"Could be possible. Would explain the lack of a fight. But then what did he or she tell them to make them come and maybe even lie down on the array out of their own choice? None of the people are related to the other in any kind, so how does the killer know them all? And if he doesn't know them, what could a stranger promise that would make you agree to come?"

"Maybe threaten your family and friends?"

"One of the victims had no family and friends, his only social contacts being the people at his work place. And even they weren't very fond of him."

"They don't need to bait them all with the same thing, do they?"

"You're right. So how does this realisation help us?"

Ed sighed. "Probably not at all." For a moment they stood in grim silence and sadly stared at the covered corpse. "You can't just print the array in the newspaper and tell people not to get near it, can you?"

"No." Mustang shook his head. "Could lead to some nutcase trying to activate it or become the next murderer. All we can do is warn people not to trust strangers who want them to come to a dark alley."

"Every kid is told not to climb into a stranger's car and how many do it anyway?"

"Too many," the colonel answered, even though the question was rhetorical. "Well," he continued after a pause, "seems like I need to go to HQ and work on a Sunday. Couldn't that bastard have waited until Monday, or even better: Never have killed again at all?"

* * *

None of Colonel Mustang's subordinates was very happy about being called to work on a Sunday, but they knew they had chosen a time-consuming job from the very beginning, so they did their usual complain marathon but nothing more. They dutifully sorted the material Investigations brought in, discretely making sure none of the crime scene photographs made it near Edward's eyes and cursing the serial murder all the way. Ed thoughtfully poured over the profiles of the victims.

"Huh, Boss, you trying a new style?" Havoc asked him when he caught sight of the white sleeping t-shirt Ed was still wearing.

"No, the colonel just managed to put on his uniform freakishly fast and I had no time to change my shirt if I wanted to follow him," Ed grumbled.

"Excuse me for hoping we might get to chase down that murderer if we hurry!" Mustang defended himself but no-one really heard because Havoc excitedly yelled "You're talking!"

"Uh, yes?" Ed said, blinking in confusion.

"This is so wonderful!" Fuery clutched his hands to his chest as tears ran down his face.

"Call him short, Falman!" Breda demanded, grinning.

"Uh?" Falman didn't understand it.

"Havoc, you call him short!"

"Why me?"

" 'Cause If he's back to normal enough to rant, then I don't want to be the one who gets punched."

Edward just stared at the excitedly bantering crew of crazy soldiers.

"It's good to hear you talk again," Hawkeye offered with a smile, stepping next to him so she could be heard over the ruckus the others caused. Ed smiled back at her and grinned at the others. It felt good that they had missed his sharp tongue. It felt even better than the ease with which he could talk again. The suffocating feeling of loneliness, the fear to break; that had kept him from just speaking up, but it didn't press down on him so much anymore.

He looked from the still smiling Hawkeye to the four male subordinates which were yelling funny stuff while flailing their arms around and finally to the colonel who sat at his desk, smirking at them all over his interlaced fingers. He grinned. No matter what happened, he could always be sure that some things stayed the same.

When he had read the colonel's first note back in Risembool, he had remembered a scene just like this one and it had helped, had dragged him back here. And now that he saw it live he knew that for once he had made a right decision. Maybe it had been a bit selfish, but it had not been stupid. Because all these people here might have had to carry his desperation with him for some time, some more, some less, but now that he was better he could return the favour, make them happy too. And even though he didn't trust equivalent exchange very much anymore since Al died, here it had definitely worked out and this was quite some comfort.

He received a few friendly claps on the back and Havoc, Fuery, Breda and even Falman demanded he'd say a sentence to each one of them. He called them all overly doting idiots and they were laughing and happy with it.

When the next Investigations officer brought in new material, they sobered up a bit though and resumed working. Ed read the files of the victims again and again, trying to connect them to one another. He sighed. They all really just seemed to be picked out randomly. The age ranged from twenty to seventy, both male and female and all looked different. The culprit didn't seem to favour a specific type.

Though... Ed knew it was superficial to think like that and usually he wouldn't care less about people's looks but he had been searching for connections and the only connection he could find between these people was that none of them was very attractive. Some looked, dare he say it, ugly, and others were little grey mouses you wouldn't notice. None of them was what people called _a looker_. Was that important? Was it just Ed's own point of view?

He stood, gathered the files and walked over to Mustang's desk. The colonel was hovering over a map that covered his workspace and was pinned with needles. He looked deep in thought. Should Ed disturb his thought process? What if he was thinking of something that would be the solution to it all? But the colonel emerged from his thoughts on his own and sat back in his chair with a rather unpleased face. "Found something?" he asked Ed, sounding a bit hopeful.

Ed fanned out the files of the victims so their pictures were all there to see. "What do you think of them?"

"Huh?" Mustang asked, leaning forward to have a proper look at the pictures, but not getting what Ed wanted him to do.

"Look at their faces, what do they all have in common?"

"Nothing really as far as I can tell," the colonel said frowning. "They're all just normal people, nothing special abou-..." he stopped.

"You wouldn't take one of these girls to a date, would you?" Ed asked as he saw realisation dawning on Mustang's face.

"When you say it like that you make me sound horribly superficial," the colonel said with a face that came very close to pouting.

Ed grinned for he had managed to faze the colonel's ego but then became serious again. "So, do you think that it's important that none of them look, uh, very handsome or pretty?"

"Well, the murderer uses an array that was originally thought to form human flesh in different shapes. Maybe he or she is even more superficial than we are and doesn't accept that people aren't defined by their looks so he/she tries to change them and fails. Or tries to punish them for hurting his eyes or something like that. There are people who're psychos like that," Mustang pointed out, thoughtfully tapping his chin while thinking. "Or we're just seeing things."

"Does this realisation help us in any way right now?" Hawkeye asked from where she was standing at the colonel's right side.

"I'm not sure but we should definitely keep it in mind," Mustang said as he stared down at his desk once again.

"And we should give that bastard a nickname. I mean, we called the brain blowing man Scar, so how about we give this one a name too? It's easier to refer to," Havoc announced from where he was sitting and staring at the gruesome pictures on his desk with disgust.

"What, you suggest we call him _shadow with a hat_? 'Cause that's the only description we have so far," Breda retorted with a raised eyebrow.

"The magician was said to wear a top hat," Falman offered, being their walking encyclopaedia.

"Yes, the magician." Fuery whispered in fear, as always falling for every ghost story he heard. "He was an alchemist who was said to have killed ten girls on stage without the audience noticing anything. He acted as a wizard, performing illusions on stage to make a living. His most famous trick was to make his assistants vanish in a box and an animal to appear where she has been. Little did people know that this was less of an illusion and more of a chimera transmutation. The magician believed that offering his assistant girls to alchemy was the price he had to pay for his fame. He called it equivalent exchange. And he was never caught..."

"But it's boring and stupid to use the same name twice!" Havoc exclaimed. They looked over to Mustang, expecting him to lecture them about putting too much thought into ghost stories again. But the Colonel was still staring at the map on his desk.

"Uh, sir?" Havoc asked.

"Sir?" Hawkeye repeated, a bit sterner.

Mustang just shoved everything but the map from his desk and frantically started to draw lines over it. "Either I am paranoid and seeing things that aren't there...or someone is mocking me, "he growled, finishing the last line and stepping back, revealing his flame alchemy transmutation circle drawn over the map. The pins that showed the murder places all neatly at the meeting points of the many lines.

"Holy shit," Breda breathed.

"Indeed. If this is no coincidence then the murderer isn't done yet," Falman joined the group around the desk.

"Shall I set up surveillance teams for the points of meeting lines that are yet to become a murder scene?" Hawkeye asked.

"Yes, get the police and everyone else alert. We'll catch that scumbag and I'll show him that this array is mine and not for him to mess with!"

There was a united, "Yes, sir!" and Mustang's team hurried away to do their job.

Ed looked at Mustang who stared at the array on the map with a look that made him wonder how come the thing wasn't burning yet. But then the colonel smoothed his features, leaving only his usual indifferent mask for the world to see.

"Don't go near these places, Fullmetal," he finally ordered and pointed at the map.

Ed nodded, though he knew he would not stay behind when they started hunting that serial killer down.


	19. Of waiting and cards

Ask Edward Elric what he imagined hell to be like and right now he'd say a giant waiting room. Because that was what the office was like this Monday morning and it drove him crazy.

Pacing the room, he watched the others wait.

Hawkeye seemed calm and collected as ever, she was after all a sniper and she knew how to be unfazed by stress. How else could she manage to concentrate enough to hit her tiny targets from whatever tower she was hiding in?

Breda was devouring sandwich after doughnut after chocolate bar after whatever next food he managed to get his hands on. Even Ed, who could eat quite a lot, wondered how he managed that without feeling sick.

Falman sat more rigid than ever and scribbled furiously on his documents, putting all his thoughts into them so he couldn't think about anything else.

Havoc had been banned to sit next to the window and do his paperwork on a tablet on his knees because he was smoking even more than usual and while the others had given up on getting him to stop, they got rather cranky when he smoked this much next to them. Havoc didn't mind though, he could stare out of the window now when his papers got too boring.

Fuery had checked every phone in the office twice to make sure they would work and receive the call from the surveillance team they all were waiting for. After that he had done the same to every radio. Now he was checking the spare and broken equipment, fixing it all up, probably with the intention of setting them all up to work later. As if more phones would make the call come sooner. Ed didn't tell him that though, he was tempted to fix the phones with alchemy and then join Fuery in staring at the thing until it rang.

And Mustang had developed a twitching eyebrow as he watched Edward pace. He would ask the Fullmetal Alchemist to please stop that every once in an hour and Edward would resume it half an hour later. While the colonel had seemed just as unfazed as Hawkeye during the first few hours, now his patience was wearing thin. He chewed on his pen whenever he stopped writing and while writing he rubbed the middle finger and thump of his left hand together, creating the occasional spark until Hawkeye told him to stop wearing the ignition gloves because he might accidentally burn his papers and she might accidentally shoot him for that. After that he had taken to tapping his fingers on his desk in a rhythm that matched Edward's footsteps, creating a dull song.

It was highly unlikely for the serial killer to try and lure his next victim in today when he had already killed yesterday, but the time span between the killings had shortened ever since the first two victims, who had been murdered almost two weeks apart. So they were all tense in case the murderer had grown bold enough by now to kill every day.

According to the array on the map, there were five victims left to kill. All five places were guarded and watched, though the soldiers stationed there were ordered not to let themselves be seen, for they might scare the culprit away. Though no one believed that. If the guy was impudent enough to mock Mustang by using his array as the layout for his plan of killing, then he sure would be impudent enough to try and kill right in front of the stationed soldiers and therefore under the military's nose.

It was clearly eating at Mustang that his array had been dragged into the whole mess, when the colonel wasn't tapping on his desk or chewing his pen you could see him jot down the array and draw other things above it to try and find another array with matching points of meeting lines. Though so far there was no success. Ed had been doing the same when the colonel ordered him to stop pacing but the arrays only ever vaguely matched Mustang's. Screw flame alchemy for being so unique.

"Hey Chief?" Havoc asked some time before working hours ended.

"Hmm?" was the distracted answer as Mustang once again scratched his array with a random line to maybe find another matching transmutation circle by accident.

"Do you think your array is popular enough for anyone to just remember it? 'Cause I kept thinking and it isn't printed in any book and even though I know it when I see it, I can't think of all its lines just like that."

They all blinked at Havoc for he normally left thinking to the others, because while he knew he had some talents they didn't, he was also aware that he was not the smartest of them. One of the talents the others hadn't possessed though was the ability to just look at everything in the simplest way, and so he sometimes just saw things they didn't because they just kept thinking in terms that were more complicated than necessary. And so when he had an idea for once it usually was quite useful.

"Maybe 'cause you're no alchemist?" Breda doubted him though.

"Yo, Boss, could you draw the colonel's array just like that?"

"I believe this isn't a suitable test because Major Elric is deemed a child prodigy and genius," Falman interjected.

"Who says that murderer isn't a genius, too? People _can_ be crazy and smart at once," Fuery said with a shudder.

"Anyway, so what'd ya say colonel?" Havoc asked.

They all looked at Mustang who thoughtfully stared at the air, considering how easily an average alchemist could remember his array. Then he frowned and grabbed the phone on his desk. He tapped his pen on a point on the map that still covered his desk underneath his paperwork, while he waited for the person on the other end to pick up. But then he slowly put the phone back down, resting his chin on his interlaced fingers with an expression that told them better not to stop him from thinking now or some very valuable conclusions might be lost. "I do have a feeling we're getting into something deep here," he finally offered, signaling his return to their world with his mind.

"And what would that be, sir?" Hawkeye inquired.

Mustang shook his head. "I will tell when my thoughts are confirmed, I don't want to waste brain capacity on a conspiracy that might only be there in my paranoid head."

"You sure you don't want us to know?" Breda asked, trying to get the information anyway.

"No, not right now. I'll know when we get our hands on that murderer and then either you'll know too, or I was wrong and there is no need to make a fuss then."

"All right, sir," the unit grumbled.

And so they resumed waiting.

* * *

It was the same on Tuesday. They came in and resumed their nervous tick while waiting. They didn't expect the killing attempt to happen in the middle of the day but maybe someone found a corpse from last night. Mustang for some reason believed the next corpse might turn up in a random place. They pushed it aside as wishful thinking because that would free the colonel's transmutation circle from the case, but Hawkeye, knowing Mustang best, asked him why he thought so and he said it had to do with the idea that came to him yesterday.

When they drove home after work and ate their take-out at Mustang's kitchen table, Ed couldn't help but curl up into himself a bit. The colonel had been quite distant yesterday evening, but so had Ed because they were both still too caught up in their thoughts on the case to try socialising. Today though, Ed had decided that his constant thinking about it wouldn't make the culprit walk into their traps at the marked points any faster, so he actively realised that the colonel was uncharacteristically quiet. Not that the man had ever talked all the time, but now it was like his mind had never trailed off the path it had taken in the office, always trying to conclude and predict what might happen next. It made Ed feel like he was something that wasn't supposed to be there, putting the colonel's thought progress in danger. It made him remember the days when he would peer through the door crack of his father's study where the man would sit and think, like Ed never existed and never needed any attention.

He knew Mustang wasn't supposed to give him the attention a father was supposed to give his kid. Maybe he wasn't even supposed to give Ed any more attention at all, considering that he already did so much with taking Edward in and allowing him to take what comfort he could give in his unpracticed ways, but Ed still wished that at least during some normal social occasion like dinner the colonel would still acknowledge his presence. The Flame had been more attentive than Edward had ever thought he would be during the last week and it had made Ed sure that he had placed his trust right, but now he couldn't help but think that maybe because he started to talk freely with the guys in the office again and resumed his banter with the colonel, Mustang might think he had done his job with helping Ed and now didn't need to pay any more attention until the blond stopped working properly again. And that made him feel dejected. Did he need to be broken for Mustang to care about him?

There was a shattering sound and he flinched.

"Ah, damn it!" Mustang sighed and bent down to collect the pieces of the plate he had dropped when getting up after finishing his dinner. To Ed's surprise, he grinned a bit then. "Must be Hughes telling me to stop spacing out," he told the boy. "I've got a habit of doing that while at home because I used to live alone. He hated it. Kicked me in the shin and said it was rude not to pay attention to your guest. Guess he's right." His grin saddened a bit, but stayed.

Ed watched him as he regarded the shards like he was contemplating taking the effort to draw a circle and transmute them back together or just live with one plate less in his cupboard, and smiled in relief. Yes, this explanation he could believe because he spaced out to a degree where he didn't register anyone himself while reading alchemy books.

And now that Mustang had emerged from the depths of his thoughts, the colonel really was paying attention to him again. He actually asked if Ed would like to play a game of chess. Ed didn't have a clue about chess, though he didn't want to admit it so he asked if they could play a game of cards instead. The colonel agreed and when he had done the dishes, or rather the lone plate from Edward, Ed was waiting for him in the living room with the set of cards ready.

Edward was a notorious cheater when it came to playing cards. Every person had their flaws and this was one of his. And it made him wish that the colonel would start spacing out again because right now the man was not only attentive but far too attentive. He just saw _everything_! There were pointed looks and raised eyebrows whenever Ed tried to get a card from his sleeve, underneath the table and various other places, and a "Really Fullmetal?" when he tried to transmute his cards, masking his clap by pressing them between his hands like he was just tired of holding them fanned. And of course now that Edward was forced to play fair, the bastard won with a Straight Flush.

Edward stared at him. "You must be the one who's cheating!" he accused, pouting.

"No, I don't. You know what happens to soldiers who cheat on other soldiers of the Amestrian military during a card game? They lose the other soldier's trust in them being an honest comrade. And I can't afford to lose my people's trust, so I don't cheat."

"So you're telling me you're just a lucky bastard?"

"Basically," Mustang smirked and reached for the cards, shuffling them in a rather flashy and well practiced way.

"You're a damn professional with that stuff! That's unfair, I'm a beginner!" Ed exclaimed.

The colonel raised an eyebrow. "You don't cheat like a beginner."

"I didn't cheat!"

"But you tried to."

"No!"

"Shall I have a look up your sleeves?"

Edward huffed and fell silent, crossing his arms in front of his chest, but only for a few seconds. "I still think you cheat, too. It takes one to know one," he grumbled then.

"So you admit you cheated?"

"No, I didn't ! And now tell me how you detected what wasn't there!" The colonel just laughed. Edward glared. "I'm waiting!"

Mustang sighed. "I grew up with the owner of a place that... well let's call it a bar until you're of age. Anyway, there were people playing cards there every now and then and I was supposed to deal said cards and make sure no one cheated. So I was taught all the tricks. The good ones, " he made the stack of cards in his left hand jump over to his right hand in a spectacular arc, "And the bad ones." He put the cards aside and as fast as lightning leaned over the table to pull the King of Hearts from Edward's sleeve. He grinned when Ed went red in the face and instinctively snatched the end of his sleeves in-between his fingers in case some more cards might try to fall out.

"So I guess I can't beat you with cards?" the boy asked.

"No, not unless you're a lucky bastard."

Just why did he want the colonel's attention again? "Arghhh, you! Drop that smug smirk and go space out again!"

"You just want a reason to kick my shin, huh?"

Ah, yes, because that bastard just knew him far too well. And even though it was annoying as hell right now, it was priceless when he needed someone to be there for him during bad times. And that's why he just smiled at the stunned Mustang and then asked him to teach him the good tricks with cards, for the colonel still wouldn't believe him when he said he didn't know the bad ones already.


	20. Left, Right, Up

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know it's no excuse for posting such a crappy patch work chapter but the informations within the Monday are necessary to finally wrap up that whole murder case investigation stuff and go back to hurt/comfort. I really tried to find a better way but I couldn't come up with one so please don't hate me...
> 
> I promise the next chapter will be bigger and better and the way back to the parental RoyEd stuff :D

_Wednesday_

"Colonel?"

"Yes?"

"Are you all right?"

"Yes, why?"

"I just dropped my watch," Edward said, as if it would explain everything, and picked up said item to stuff it into his pocket as they hurried to get ready for the office because they had slept in.

"And?" Mustang inquired, a bit confused.

"Well, you didn't make a comment about my damaging state-funded things _again_."

Mustang just shrugged. "Don't see a reason to, you won't damage that thing by just dropping it. It's robust enough to catch a bullet."

"Huh, really?" Ed skeptically raised an eyebrow.

"I should know."

The younger alchemist decided to better not ask the older about this story. There was something in Mustang's eyes that told him to better not pry open that wound.

"And besides, the way from your hands to the floor is so short that _everything_ would survive it because it would land before it even started to really fall."

Maybe he shouldn't rip open old wounds, but how about slashing the colonel a few new ones?

* * *

_Thursday_

"Fullmetal!"

Edward slowly peaked out of his room, sensing that he was in trouble.

"What did I tell you about things of yours that lie on the living room floor?"

Ed sheepishly smiled at a Roy Mustang who looked rather displeased because he had stumbled over one of Ed's boots, which the boy had kicked off next to the couch instead of by the front door. "Uhhh I don't remember..." He tried to play dumb.

"Well then look closely." Mustang smirked and pulled on one of his gloves.

"Ahh! No don't burn them!" Ed screeched.

"Why? 'Cause you don't have any other boots with a two inch sole to make up for your dwarfism?" Mustang smirked.

Ed forcefully held back a short rant. "Uh no, but because it's a first and you could be a bit lenient and give me a second chance...?" he said instead, trying for a puppy dog face.

"Life rarely gives second chances," Mustang lectured, completely unimpressed by Ed's puppy eyes attempt.

"I know that," Ed said and hung his head.

Mustang sighed. There was silence for a moment. "Well, life doesn't give second chances but people do. So I won't burn them...BUT, "and the smirk was back, "you'll be the one cleaning the bathroom for the next week!"

"Awww come on!" Ed whined.

Mustang just grinned and the boy knew there was no getting out of this.

* * *

_Friday_

"Colonel!"

"What is it?"

"You forgot to bring the laundry for cleaning and NOW I'M OUT OF UNDERWEAR!" Edward stomped out of his room, seething and still wearing nothing but the big towel he had wrapped around himself after his morning shower.

Mustang sheepishly scratched at his neck, though Ed could see that was an act. The colonel was close to bursting out laughing. "Oh, sorry. I'll just take the laundry now and bribe the people doing it, then it should be ready when we get off work."

"That doesn't help me now!"

"Just...uh wear what you wore until before you showered. It's just a bit more than half a day longer than what you usually wear it, it shouldn't be too bad."

"I just showered, so I don't want to wear dirty clothes now!"

"Then wear a pair of your shorts, they're basically the same as boxers, right?"

Ed opened his mouth to yell again, but then stopped and considered the idea.

"I'll try that," he then grumbled and stomped back towards his room. Standing in the doorway, he turned to Mustang again. "You're on bathroom cleaning duty now!" he exclaimed, then grinned and slammed the door.

* * *

_Saturday_

"Fullmetal!"

"Yeeees?" Ed cautiously walked over into the kitchen.

Mustang stood pointing at the open fridge. "Why is all the milk gone?"

"Maybe you finished it?"

"No, I just bought some."

"Yes, and that disgusting cow secretion was stealing all the room for my orange juice!"

"Cow secre- wait what?! So you _did_ take it away!"

"...No?"

"Fullmetal..."

"Okay, okay, I won't do it again, put those gloves away!"

"You know what? That part of the fridge is yours and this is mine."

"Why is your part bigger than mine?!"

" 'cause I buy the healthy food like eggs for breakfast, while you only buy sweets and those don't need much space."

"But the orange juice-"

"Could fit perfectly fine if you don't insist on stuffing all five cartons in here!"

"Fine I'll take the ones that aren't open yet out. But if you put cow juice in there and it leaks out and touches my food then I'll drown you with that white liquid of hell!"

Mustang stared at him. "Fullmetal?"

"Yes?"

"You're crazy."

"Says you, pyromaniac."

* * *

_Sunday_

"COLONEL!"

Said man almost fell out of his bed. Being a soldier and having fought in a war allowed him to immediately gather his senses and rush out of his bedroom, glove on, to find out what that blood-freezing scream had been about. He expected some attacker when he burst into the room, but there was only Edward, flailing in his bed and kicking his blanket like it was his worst enemy, panic written all over the face with closed eyes.

For a moment the colonel didn't know what to do and simply stared. But then he decided to try and wake Ed up.

"Fullmetal, I'm here, wake up!" he said, awkwardly sitting down on the edge of the bed, and trying to catch Ed's flailing arms. Edward stilled a bit, his body turning into Mustang's direction. The colonel took the chance and placed a hand on each of Ed's arms. "Everything's alright," he told the boy.

Ed relaxed some more. Mustang thoughtfully chewed on his lip. Should he wake the boy now or should he try to calm him further while he remained asleep?

" 'm sorry," Ed mumbled. "Did'n' wan' to..." his flesh arm wriggled out from underneath Mustang's hand and grabbed the colonel's right arm. Then the small alchemist practically curled around the limb. The colonel blinked, confused, not really sure how to handle this.

"It's alright, you're alright...I'm alright...It's just a nightmare," he spoke in a soft voice he imagined was right for this kind of situation, all the while feeling a bit stupid and not equipped for this. Talking about nightmares to an Ed who was awake was all right, but when he was asleep and logical comments were of no use? When there was no brilliant mind to reach but only a stressed kid? Not Roy Mustang's field of action.

However, being the stubborn man he was, he still decided to let Ed sleep. So the colonel continued talking whatever soothing nonsense he could think of as he tried to move without waking the short alchemist. He needed to find a better position for himself, because with his arm trapped by Ed's curled up body he had to lean over said boy in a rather uncomfortable way that strained his muscles.

Funny enough, the moment he was finally comfortable Ed had calmed down enough to mumble, "Go do ya paperwork co'nel!" and roll over, letting go of him.

* * *

_Monday_

One week. One week they had waited and fiddled with their nervous ticks and nothing had happened. No corpse, no lead. By now they had all calmed down and normal office routine had set in again. Though Edward noticed that Mustang had a habit of vanishing from the office for extended time periods, saying he was out for some private investigation. At first he had thought the colonel meant their current case and had sighed and thought the man was a bit obsessed with it since his array had been dragged into the whole mess, but then Havoc had sighed, looked over at Mustang's once again empty desk and said: "He really needs to stop that. It's not healthy and he can't catch Hughes killer alone. What is he hoping to gain from looking through the stuff Hughes had been looking into before he was killed?"

"I think the colonel will catch himself again sooner or later, right now he just tries to make up for the investigation time he thinks he has lost while he was bombarded with paperwork and busy with the serial killer," Hawkeye tried to reassure.

"But he won't stop unless said paperwork and serial killer thwart him again. He needs to stop that himself and get over it, as cruel as it sounds." Breda sighed.

The office door opened and Mustang himself came in, carrying some coffee and some folders. "Met someone from Investigations on the way, they don't really have any news for us," he announced, leaning against his desk and sipping from his coffee.

"Do you think it's over?" Havoc asked, thoughtfully scratching his chin. "I mean, the amount of time between the killings has shortened ever since the first and now there's none for a week!"

Mustang looked like he couldn't decide between a sigh and a predator grin. In the end he settled for a neutral face. "No, I don't think it's over. I think we backed them in a corner and they can't decide if they should try to escape on the right or the left side of us. So they're waiting until they decide."

He opened the folder he had brought with him and looked over the new material. Raising an eyebrow, he decided for his predator grin after all. "Though it looks like they'll take neither way and instead cut off some weight to escape up," he then said, one finger subconsciously pointing to the ceiling.

"Uh, what?" his male subordinates asked in a chorus.

"Sir, I believe none of us can follow you train of thought here," Hawkeye pointed out, as usual a bit more stiff in her wording than the others.

Mustang thoughtfully looked at them all, obviously contemplating if he should explain or not.

"Oh, c'mon sir, don't tell me it's part of that thought you wouldn't tell us about!" Havoc whined.

"Actually, it is," Mustang smirked. The others groaned. "Ah, well I'll tell you. Though I do think you're safer not knowing." He paused, giving them the chance to back out. None of them did, so he continued.

"Remember when we talked about how the killer could know my array well enough to paint it on the map with his victims?" He pulled one of his ignition gloves out of his pocket. "I don't wear these all day and the array isn't printed in any book. So if people see it, they only do so when I fight. Now there was a time when I fought quite a lot, hours per day, and was practically always wearing the gloves. Plus, during the same time there was another alchemist around; he was in the same camp as me and had enough alchemy talent to study and remember my array there. He is also on the list of people Doctor Marcoh talked to about the book."

"Major Armstrong?" Fuery asked confused.

"No."

"But he was with you in Ishbal..."

"Yes, he was. But considering his personality and his break down there, I don't think he used up his free time with studying my array and now became a serial killer." He turned to Havoc and smirked. "Second Lieutenant Havoc..."

Said man gulped. That grin couldn't mean something good for him. "Yes, sir...?"

"You are managing the paperwork of our current murder case, aren't you?"

"Uh yes, sir." He definitely wanted a smoke, judging by the way he fiddled with his coat pocket.

"So you've got all the info on everyone we ever suspected?"

"Yes, sir.", Havoc said.

"No, sir.", Mustang correctet him.

"Huh?" Now Havoc was at a loss.

"Go have a look."

They all stared in confusion as Havoc looked through the papers. Then looked again and frowned. "The information on Zolf Kimbley you requested never made it to us."

Understanding dawned on their faces.

"Precisely. I asked for them again and again but they never made it to my desk, just some crappy excuses whenever I tried to get them. And then Investigations wasn't allowed in because it is just _ridiculous_ that someone could escape from the military's prison without them noticing. Well it _is_ ridiculous, and therefore someone had not only noticed but encouraged it. That's why I think there is not only a mad killer but also an employer who sent said killer out. And this employer is trying to cut off Kimbley now to save his ass." He turned the folder in his hands, showing them it was Kimbley's file.

"Because if they let Kimbley continue with the current plan then we would catch him and end the murder series. But if they let him kill someone in an arbitrary place then they would tell us that they're in a position where they can see our movements and know we watch certain spots in Central."

"But we didn't tell anyone why we are watching these spots, so how should they know we caught up to them using the flame array?" Havoc was confused.

"They don't need to. Just seeing that we are watching some spots more than others is enough to let them know that we are on to something, and maybe warn Kimbley not to walk into these heavily watched places."

"One question. Let's say they found out about our knowing about the array; I mean there must be some purpose in them using it, right? So why cut it off before you got the message?" Breda asked, being the group's best tactician apart from Mustang.

"I think the employer wanted those killings for some other reason than sending a special message for _me_. That's why they're halting. If the employer was the one who was trying to tell me something then they wouldn't stop the killer now but try to keep him killing until the full message is delivered. I mean, they're giving Kimbley to us now," he waved around the file, "so they obviously don't care about him. So if they were sending a message then it too wouldn't matter if Kimbley got caught, as long as the message got out as much as possible. But if Kimbley is the one sending a message, playing his own little game within the game, and the employer found out only now why we're acting funny..."

"Then he might regret hiring Kimbley and cut him off to search for someone else to continue the killing," Ed concluded.

"Exactly. He's throwing us a bone to chew on so we're distracted while he starts with a new plan. These files say that Kimbley was a quiet and easy to handle prisoner until a few weeks before the first killing. Then he started to have some kind of fit every once in a while, leaving him violent and utterly mad. They wanted to put him in the mental ward, but instead they received orders from above to put him into one of the old isolation cells in the basement to let him _cool off._ These orders were never really written down and spoken by an officer who I happen to know died in a car accident. The funny thing though is that during these hours Kimbley was not monitored. He could have done _anything_ , and none of the guards would be none the wiser." Mustang explained, his eyes wandering over the papers.

"You mean he transmuted himself a way out of there and went for his killing sprees while everyone thought he was in that cell?" Fuery shivered and let a paranoid gaze wander to the windows. "Now I'm scared."

Breda smacked him over the head. "Pull yourself together, idiot! Alchemists in prison are restrained so they can't use their alchemy."

"Doesn't mean someone from the outside can't reach him, though." Ed scratched his head in thought.

"And I bet that someone has their base right here." Mustang pulled out their well used map, placing it in the middle of the pushed together desks of his subordinates. He pointed on a spot.

"You mean they're in prison, too?" Hawkeye asked, frowning in confusion.

"No, it's the building right next to it. Laboratory Five. It's an abandoned military building. They could have a base in there, a tunnel over to the prison, and who knows what else. No one cares about that building, so no one would notice."

"So you think someone from the military is involved?" Hawkeye made use of her voice again.

"Well, who has to approve of me sending the guards to the marked spots?" He flicked through Kimbley's file with his pointer finger. "Who has to approve of me receiving data and information? Who could have made that officer order the isolation cell for Kimbley? Someone up the ranks is up to something funny and big if you ask me."

"So what are we going to do? March in that prison and take the bone they threw us?" Edward stared at Kimbley's picture with a frown.

"No. We'll do nothing. This way we'll tell them that we know it won't end with catching Kimbley and are still alert. And that will force them to rethink. And what they'll do then will tell us more about them. And maybe it will even compel them to cower down and stop completely because they know that in the end they can't flee. Neither right, nor left, nor up. Or they'll just think we're dumb and make a mistake because they'll underestimate us."

"And how long do you think they'll take for their decision?" Hawkeye and Breda asked in union.

"I guess they'll give us one day to think of all this." He waved at the map and Kimbley's file. "Then one day to plan our steps. One day to organize what we planned. One day to try and pull through with our plan and one or two days extra waiting in case we're just slower than they thought we'd be. So five to six days. After that we should have our answer."

And what a horrible answer it was they received.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh, for those who don't know: The "Wednesday" referes to an OVA from the anime where Mustang's pocket watch catches a bullet fired on him by an ex soldier in Ishbal. The ex soldier used to be Mustang's friend in the academy but had ishbalan blood so he changed sides when the war began.


	21. Two Can Keep A Secret If One Of Them Is Dead

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Because someone pointed out that I never made this clear (thank you!) here some infos :
> 
> Timeline & Co.:  
> \- Ed and Al never decoded Dr. Marcoh's journals, they found the stone they used to transmute Al before they tried that.  
> \- Maes Hughes died the same time as in the manga/brotherhood  
> -The failed transmutation of Al happened shotly after Hughes death, the story goes from there on and is set in the manga/brotherhood univese

Seven more days of waiting and the phone rang, waking them from their sleep and sending them to chase through Central's streets.

"A man in a white suit, wearing a white hat escorting a woman with, uh, target features to a near alley, reported to watch point 5," the soldier on the other end of the line said.

"Interfere when he reveals a ready, or starts to draw, a transmutation circle, I'm on the way!" Mustang answered, already pulling on the uniform jacket that had been draped over the back of the chair by the desk. Ed had started to dress the moment Mustang's demeanour changed from sleepy to professional so he was ready when the colonel was.

"So they decided to let Kimbley go on anyway. Either they came up with a new plan faster than I thought they would or I concluded wrong," Mustang growled, unlocking his car and jumping in.

The engine howled as the vehicle sped away from its parking place. Ed had no clue where they were going but he trusted the colonel to find their way and concentrated on not hitting his head somewhere when the car jerked and screeched around a corner at a speed that would cost Mustang his driving license or his life if he tried it in broad daylight and without the possibility of a murder getting away hanging over their heads.

"Watch out, that guy is dangerous," the colonel told him, and Ed heard the "Stay safe" lying underneath.

Before he could think of an answer, Mustang forced the car to a screeching halt at the entrance of an alley and left it, taking the car key with him without bothering to lock the doors. Glove on and pistol drawn, he carefully made his way in the alley, Ed hot on his heels. Just when they stepped out of the lights on the main street the shadows ahead of them fled from the crackling light of alchemy. They charged, running over to where the glowing array illuminated the alchemist and his victims. The four MPs that were guarding this place were all either unconscious or dead, Ed couldn't tell, and strewn across the floor. A woman was in the circle and, when the light started glowing, her eyes shot open and she opened her mouth in a silent scream.

She was lucky though. She wouldn't end up dead. A string of flames forced the alchemist away from the circle, illuminating his face for a moment. Zolf Kimbley grinned at them, and then started running.

"Wait there for the backup soldiers, they'll be here in a minute!" Mustang yelled over to the panicking woman, who was slowly sitting up, and ran after Kimbley. For a moment Ed was torn, but then he heard the engines of several speeding cars disturb the already no-longer-peaceful night even further and chased after the colonel and the culprit.

It was hard to catch up to Mustang, but once he was there he realised that they were steadily catching up to Kimbley. Being stuck in a prison cell until he was told to go and kill obviously left the Crimson Lotus Alchemist in an unfit condition. Getting closer and closer they followed him trough the labyrinth of alleys in Central's not-so-nice areas. And then they came around a corner and found Kimbley at a dead end. The alchemist was leaning against the wall blocking his way and grinned.

"Roy Mustang, the Flame Alchemist...Last time I saw you you were a naïve little boy who wanted to play soldier but faltered when he got what putting on that uniform really meant. Though I see you have filled those empty eyes of yours with determination by now. Did you finally get the fact that being a soldier means you'll have to kill as much as the higher ups tell you, not just as much as you think you can bear? Or did you just stop caring, I wonder? And then there's Edward Elric, Fullmetal Alchemist... The stories about you even reached little old me in Central Prison, though that's no wonder considering that quite a lot of people in there were brought in by you. I got to tell them I met you in person, I bet they'd like to hear the story."

"You're awfully confident Kimbley, I doubt you'll ever get the chance to tell them before you'll face the firing squad for your crimes," Mustang observed coldly.

" _Crimes_? But all those people came to me on their own... I promised them a new, beautiful body so they could start a new and better life and they agreed to take the risks. It's not my fault the transmutation didn't always work out..." The fake innocence on Kimbley's face made Edward feel sick.

"Like there ever was a transmutation that worked out," Ed snorted. "You turned them inside out on purpose!"

"And even if we can't prove _that_ , this kind of transmutation itself is still forbidden for it is far too close to human transmutation and human experiments. You'll be executed," the colonel added.

"I don't think so. Our government isn't as opposed to experiments on humans as you might think."

"You think so because _some_ higher ups were the ones to send you out to kill? Well, I'll let you know there are people and _people_ within the ranks."

"How right you are, Colonel." Kimbley was delighted. "And since you figured out so much, don't you think said higher ups will get me out of this?"

"They won't save your ass. In fact I think they served it to us to save their own."

"And here is where you are wrong again."

There was a click and then a pistol was pressed against Ed's neck. Flame and Fullmetal froze.

"Drop the gun and put your hands up colonel!" the young man behind Ed said in a sadistic-sounding sing-song voice and closed up to Ed, grabbing the boy's flesh arm and forcing it behind Ed's back so the young alchemist couldn't suddenly clap and flee. Mustang's face was carefully blank as he dropped his gun to the floor.

"Who do you want me to kick it to?" he asked in mocking annoyance as he lifted his hands to the left and right of his head. _Provoking the enemy so he might forget that he was still wearing an ignition glove_ , Ed realised.

It seemed to work, for the young man behind him didn't seem to like that Mustang sounded like an exasperated adult talking to an annoying kid. He snarled. "Kick it over to Kimbley."

Mustang shoved the pistol with his foot and it slithered away from him and in Kimbley's direction. "So they arranged a minion for you?" he asked Kimbley with raised eyebrows.

"Minion?! I am no minion, _Colonel_. In fact I am the one holding the strings right now, so you better don't annoy me!" Edward could see greenish black, long hair out of the corners of his eyes as he tried to visualise the face of his seething captor.

The colonel's eyebrows rose a bit higher but he only said; "So, what do you want?"

"You, out of our way. You are quite the nuisance, though we originally thought that if we entertain you a bit we might be able to keep you around for later use. But you are so damn stubborn that the effort isn't worth it. So we'll kill you. Kimbley will draw this nice transmutation circle and you will let yourself be transmuted if you don't want me to blow out the pipsqueak's brains here."

Edward's eyes widened. They wanted to transmute the colonel?! He stared at Mustang who remained calm, still not fully convinced that the boy with the terrible hairstyle was calling the shots here.

"I see. So since I am going to die and Kimbley will take some time to draw that circle, would you mind answering some questions while I wait for death? Kind of like a last wish?" the colonel inquired smoothly. Edward knew the guy behind him was grinning.

"Oh, of course, I bet this might be fun. If you ask the right questions you'll die so _so_ unhappy!" Spit sprinkled on Edward's neck as his captor laughed. He really hoped Mustang was so calm because he was planning something; this situation was getting rather unpleasant.

"Why did you use my array?" the colonel questioned, turning to Kimbley who was digging for some chalk in his pockets.

"Simple. My original orders we so _boring_." He grinned at the other culprit, who snarled in a rather irritated way. Kimbley put on a fake contrite face, which only served to anger the other even further. "You see, learning this array and turning people inside out was easy for me. But then it just wasn't as fun and fulfilling as blowing them up. They promised me action and all I got were these little trips. But what is the rush of alchemy without _hearing_ the results? The wonderful sound of exploding things and collapsing buildings, oh how I miss it! You know them, Flame, you've listened to them too while we turned the towns of Ishbal into rubble and ashes... And then there's the fact that I already know how things will end up when I keep on doing what they say." He nodded towards his accomplice. "It's so easy, so _predictable_ , I don't like it. So I want to see what happens if I put some stones in their way. I want to know what happens if the great Flame Alchemist actually managed to get this close to us. I want a surprise. You see, I didn't have many surprises during jail time. It's time to make up for it, so do something Mustang! I wanna watch the world turn in another direct-argh"

"You won't watch anything." Kimbley dropped to the ground as a woman in black, who had jumped down from a roof and landed behind him, drew back what seemed to be her fingers, only they were long and sharp like spears. With a sickening splashing sound the sharp black digits pulled out of Kimbley's stomach, leaving the Crimson Lotus Alchemist as a crumbled, bleeding heap on the floor.

"Damn it, Lust, what are you doing?!"screeched the one who still held Ed captive while the woman regarded her now normal-shaped fingers, bored.

"Shut you mouth, Envy," she drawled in a low, sultry voice. "Kimbley was even more annoying than Mustang, no amount of reprimanding would make him more obedient. Also, your plans so far have only brought more trouble than solutions, so sit back now so I can clean up your mess." The last part was spoken sharper, more like an order.

"I won't-" the one behind Ed, obviously Envy, started, but Lust calmly interrupted him.

"If the Flame Colonel here is to die in a fight with the fleeing culprit, wouldn't it be much more convincing if he gets stabbed by the panicking killer than when he died in an array that takes ages to draw and with little Fullmetal around, supposedly able to distract Kimbley from the transmutation, because we were never here? No, I think we better put a new hole in the colonel and burn Kimbely's corpse to make it lo-"

And then she just exploded. They all stared at a few tiny pieces of flesh, the only thing left from her, and Kimbley, who had crawled over, grabbed her ankles and transmuted her in his favourite way.

"Don't call someone a corpse unless you checked their pulse!" the bleeding alchemist rasped. The others didn't know if he was laughing or coughing then. "Looks like I'm still gonna watch! Oh, making you explode really felt good!" Now he was definitely cackling like the maniac he was. "Blowing them up is the best thing!" Sheer madness seemed to keep him able to talk.

Envy hissed in anger. "You stupid, useless human- ARGH!" The green haired boy dropped his gun, nursing his hand, only to clap it over his left eye with another pained cry a second later. Mustang had used the distraction, aiming two pin point flames with incredible speed, allowing Ed to get out of Envy's grip.

"Oh you think this is a win for you, but it isn't!" the wounded creature exclaimed, sounding just as utterly mad as Kimbley, and regarded his burned hand with the one eye left, like it was something really amusing.

"You'll die!" he told Mustang and then ran away, laughing like crazy. He jumped on a near dumpster and from there on continued on a narrow roof, vanishing from their sight.

For a moment Ed and Mustang simply stared after him, puzzled to no end. Then Ed went over to Kimbley. The man was a horrible person and most likely beyond saving, but Edward just couldn't watch someone die; he had to try and save them. He knelt next to Kimbley, but was stopped by Mustang's hand on his shoulder.

"One question Kimbley..." the colonel started.

Kimbley just grinned. "Yes, you really learned to play the game..." He snickered and coughed, blood trickling from his mouth. "Information for life."

Mustang ignored that. "You killed a lot, but did you also kill Maes Hughes?"

"Hughes...I helped create the points on the map he saw, so maybe indirectly it was a bit of my fault...but I didn't shoot him."

Mustang frowned, but nodded. "Yeah, you would have blown him up." The colonel let Ed go and the blond pressed down on the wound in the Crimson Lotus' stomach where Lust had stabbed through.

"Such a kind-hearted boy..." Kimbley mused. "I wonder how you were ever able to use that stone!"

Ed assumed that the blood loss was slowly getting to Kimbley's brain. "I'm an alchemist, why shouldn't I be able to use that stone?" he snapped, annoyed with the horrible man.

"Ohhh so you don't know?!" The blood in the corners of Kimbley's mouth made his grin look even wider and even crazier. The injured alchemist blinked, having difficulties keeping his eyes open, but still kept speaking, low and slowly.

"A deal, equivalent exchange...I'll tell you the truth about that stone... if Flame can discover the truth about the immortality of homunculus for me... They're so annoyingly arrogant because of it...but I wonder... how many times can they withstand being burned to death before they can't... regenerate any more?"

Mustang's eyes widened. "Regenerate?!" And he spun around just in time to face Lust as she pierced him with those long, blade-like fingers of hers. Edward watched in horror as she grabbed the colonel's wrist, pulling off his ignition glove and shredding it as she dropped him to the ground. Mustang landed in a crouched heap and with a pain-filled hiss."Why do I always have to clean up after Envy?" She sighed.

"Colonel!" Hawkeye's voice interrupted everything the Homunculus might have done or said then. She and Havoc came racing towards them, panting. "Step away from them!" the female lieutenant ordered, sounding outraged.

"My, my, the shabby backup finally found us. At least in shaking you off Envy was successful..." She smiled at Havoc. "Hello Jean."

"Celaris?" he said in confusion.

"Not really, but there is no need to explain." Lust started walking towards them. "I'll just make you join your superior."

Ed had already rushed over to said superior, frantically applying pressure on the stab wound in his side. He hated that he had to choose between people's lives, hated that he couldn't help both. He felt guilty as hell, but Mustang was just much more important to him than Kimbley.

"Colonel?" he asked in panic.

"Lighter, Havoc's lighter," Mustang ground out, pulling a small, military issued pocket knife out of his uniform. Ed scrambled to his feet. He had no idea what Mustang had in mind but even while the colonel was practically down, Edward trusted him to be the one of them who still had a grasp on the whole situation, keeping a level head and forming some sort of plan. He wasn't a colonel this young for nothing, right? He had to know what he was doing!

"Havoc, your lighter! Need it!" he yelled, running a good bit towards Lust before clapping, making sure the alchemy would reach her. Usually he'd never directly aim for impaling someone like that, but she had regenerated from being blown to pieces so he let the spears rising from the ground hit her full on, buying Havoc a moment to cease firing bullets and fish out his lighter. Ed barely caught the thing when it flew over to him; he was distracted by the impaled body, feeling nauseous.

But then he had it and turned back to Mustang. The man was on his knees by now, having simply cut away the stronger buttons of his uniform jacket and ripped away the weaker ones of his shirt to get access to his wound. He wasn't treating it though. Instead, he was guiding the blade of his small knife over the back of his hand with utmost precision, biting his lip in concentration and pain.

"Lighter!" he ordered in a hoarse voice, reaching out when his trusted array was ready. Ed handed over the lighter, staring in slight shock at Mustang's hand. "Now look away. Look away!" he snapped again when Ed just kept staring, now in bafflement. The boy turned away, deciding to try for Kimbley again. He was shaking. The colonel knew what he was doing, right? _Right_? He couldn't lose another person who was important to him, he _couldn't_!

Ed was just about to press his hands on the barley alive Kimbley when there was a snap, the stench of burned flash and a muffled cry of pain. His head snapped around. The colonel was curled up on his side, just releasing the collar of his uniform jacket, which he had bitten down on to keep quiet and not bite off his tongue, before taking a shuddering breath. His shaking hand, holding the lighter, was hovering over the burned shut wounds. While Ed was still staring with wide, shocked eyes, the colonel started to get up.

"Wall!" he managed between clenched teeth. "Put a wall between her and my subordinates!" he then ordered, his voice growing stronger as he climbed to his feet.

And Edward was relieved. No matter how horrible the colonel looked, he was back on his feet! He got up too, running towards Lust. Hawkeye and Havoc didn't miss, but he still ran along the alley's walls once again, just in case a bullet strayed. Clenching his teeth, he once again impaled her, distracting her to get close enough to erect the wall between her and the two other blonds. Then he ran back. Mustang raised his hand with the cut-in array and the lighter once Ed was back with him. The boy could see black eyes narrow and then Lust was ablaze.

"Didn't you just learn from Kimbley to check your victim's pulse before you deem them harmless!?" the colonel scorned coldly.

Edward had seen Mustang using flame alchemy before, but never when the man was out to kill. It was awful to watch, so he closed his eyes. It was terrible to hear too, but just when he lifted his hands to his ears he heard Kimbley. It was luck, pure luck; if Lust had screamed or Mustang had snapped just then then the barley audible voice would have been drowned out. Ed's eyes snapped open again and he turned around.

"He's killing her..." Another snap sounded. "I can hear it..." The blaze of a flame. "I know how death sounds..." Lust screamed. "Do you hear me, boy?"

It was strangely hypnotising to hear someone who looked so dead talk. Like the soul was already detached from the body and haunting you from the after world. Kimbley's head had lolled to the side, facing the fight, though the fire only reflected in already dull eyes. His lungs, his heart, a tiny bit of his brain and his vocal cords seemed to be the only parts of that body still alive.

"Yes..." Ed said, coming over and kneeling next to the alchemist whose once white suit was now red enough to turn the Lotus Alchemist crimson for real.

"Good 'cause I won't...say it again, heh... ." He took a last, rasping breath. "The ingredients... for a philosopher's stone... are live... humans... their souls...lots, _lots_ of 'em..."

Ed's eyes widened in horror.

That day:

Zolf J. Kimbley died with a bloody smirk on his face.

Lust, supposedly immortal homunculus, left this world as well.

Roy Mustang, though gravely injured, was the one who brought the creature down.

Jean Havoc went to call for an ambulance and yell at the backup for being too stupid to find them sooner.

Riza Hawkeye stood guard over them, making sure no new danger appeared and her superior was safely brought to the hospital.

And Edward Elric... Edward Elric vanished in the white fog that slowly filled him out, for there was no way for him to exist with the knowledge that he had used **human souls** to fuel the failed transmutation of his brother, was there?

Smother the fire, reset the soul, go back to numb.


	22. Seeking

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *dramatic music* So this is Ed in the beginning stages of his numbness phase. I hope it's not too weird to read...

There was nothing.

Well, that was wrong; there were certainly a lot of things.

There was just nothing Edward really felt or acknowledged. His brain didn't even bother to process the information his eyes sent to it, leaving him blind even though he could see perfectly fine. If he wanted to, but he didn't. For quite some time now (hours, days, weeks, months, years?) he had just let everything around him happen, as unresponsive as a rag doll. He didn't even realise it for he didn't think about it. Actually he didn't really think of anything at all. Edward just... existed.

One of the reasons for him to simply exist was that something was amiss. And he just couldn't _wake up_ without that something around. The few brain cells of his that stubbornly kept thinking told him only two things.

One: He had done something horrible ( had used human sou- SHUT UP!) and that's why he needed to stay numb or shatter.

Two: He needed to find the thing that was missing for it held the key to the other two things he needed to finally go on and maybe forgive himself (for being so stupid an- NOT NOW, TOO EARLY!)

The missing thing, he concluded after he dared to visit a place awfully close to awareness, was actually less of a thing and more of a presence. So he started to search for that one between the presences around him.

At the moment he was with the Gentle Presence. It was one he liked very much, for it was always kind and caring and he knew it tried its best to help him. He shared the care of that presence with the Innocent Presence. Innocent Presence was, well, innocent. Very young, he concluded. It didn't really understand him, but it tried to help in its own way, playing with him even though he barely responded. It just put things on his head (A crown? Huh, I'm anything but a noble prince) and then let its fantasy carry them away, often just telling him the story he was supposed to be in to compensate for his lack of movement.

But as wonderful as existing with Gentle Presence and Innocent Presence was, he knew he couldn't stay with them for long because there was one significant problem: They made him remember two similar presences which he had lost. In small doses and when he was aware of things that were fine, then he knew there was a difference between them and _them_ (Mom, Al, I'm sorry, I'm sorry- BE QUIET YOU NEED TO WAIT!), but now, when he couldn't escape when necessary, it triggered nightmares. And, even though they tried, the two couldn't help him with those because they were kind of the cause. He hated it; he knew they didn't deserve his screaming and yelling for them to go away until he had calmed down, gone numb again. But he couldn't do a thing about it during those moments.

Ed was quite sure that during these instances he also yelled for the presence he was searching for to come, but once he calmed down again he couldn't remember the name any more. Names were dangerous, linked with memories, just like faces.

After a while another presence made an appearance and took him for a trip. He called it the Professional Presence. It was a presence that was kind like Gentle Presence and had some motherly features too, but a certain kind of openness wasn't there. It was nice and reliable and also wanted the best for him, but somehow it still kept a certain kind of distance. Just like Edward, that presence had its own kind of shield. Not as thick as Ed's, but still. The shield crumbled a bit when they finally met the presence they were going to visit, only to rebuild with full force, like Professional Presence needed to remember that it was indeed supposed to be here on professional business.

They met the presence they were visiting in a place with lots of rushing presences, which were nice but fleeting and busily switching from room to room. Ed knew he hated this place for some reason. And it confused him a great deal why the presence they were visiting was here. That presence was supposed to be at the place Edward considered safe. Why was it here? It acted like nothing was wrong with it, was bossy like always, sarcastic and stubborn, too. But there also was a certain kind of warmth towards Edward, even if it tried teasing him (I'm NOT small!). And that was when it clicked. He found the presence he was searching for. And he came to call it the Warm Rock.

Rock because it was a solid presence, one that wouldn't budge or break under pressure. And Warm Rock could take a lot of pressure, Ed knew that. It was safety, protection, a pillar of strength, something you could hide behind or cling to when the ocean of life was trying to sweep you away. It also was a willing stepping stone to help him go on.

The only not rock-like quality was the warmth. Normal rocks were cold, but Edward's rock-like presence had a warm core that could heat up the whole being to something welcoming and caring. That caring facet was a lot like Gentle Presence, but not quite for there was this shy, personal note. Rock was solid, that's why sometimes it had a hard time becoming soft and comforting, but Ed knew that in the end it would manage so he didn't mind if it was a bit awkward and unpracticed. He knew the warm core of the Rock would eventually shine through when he leaned on it. And that's why he was very scared when Professional Presence wanted to take him away again.

He needed Warm Rock, for it had the answer. Ed didn't have a clue about what exactly he was searching for, just that it was two different things and he couldn't get one without the other, but both were linked to Warm Rock. Just what was it? He couldn't remember, he just _couldn't_ remember. Not without delving too deep into the dangerous territory of painful memories.

Professional Presence tried to coax him away from Warm Rock again, but Ed knew that he'd need that presence to be around him if he wanted to remember what he was searching for. And that's why in the end he threw an actual tantrum, screaming unintelligible things and gripping tight on to what seemed to be the foot end of a bed until they allowed him to stay and Warm Rock announced that it would "leave the hospital tomorrow, screw the doctor's opinion". Edward didn't get the meaning of the words, but he understood that Warm Rock would be around him from now on and that was all that mattered at the moment. He was also dimly aware that someday he would be quite embarrassed about his childish fight to stay by Warm Rock but right now he couldn't care less. He was happily snuggled up against its side.

They left the place with the rushing presences after some hours being awake and some hours of sleep. A lot of presences didn't seem to approve of that, Professional Presence who drove them to the safe place included, but Warm Rock was stubborn.

When they reached the safe place Edward immediately used the little bit of brain capacity he deemed safe to work with to try and figure out what he was searching for now that he found Warm Rock again. It resulted in him sitting and brooding, ignoring the world around him just as long as Warm Rock stayed close. Ed had developed some kind of sixth sense when it came to pinning down the position of the presences around him. He didn't even need to make work of his now dull golden eyes for that. That's why he knew Professional Presence was around before he heard the voice somewhere behind of were he was seated.

Maybe it was because he still held a grudge against it for trying to part him from Warm Rock in the place of the many rushing presences, or because he feared for such an attempt to happen again, that he actually kind of listened to what Professional Presence and Warm Rock were talking about.

"I'm glad you came, Hawkeye."

"With all due respect, sir, you look like hell. Did you sleep even once during the last five days?"

"A few hours every once in a while. Fullmetal falls asleep quite randomly. Didn't want him to wake up alone and maybe hurt himself, Gracia said he acts quite distressfully after nightmares. Don't know what she means though; he doesn't have many and when I start talking to him he calms down and sleeps on... But that's why I asked you to come over. Can you watch him for me? I need some sleep before we get on the train..."

"And some food, a shower and a shave."

A wry sigh. "Yes, that probably too."

Gentle."I will watch him for the day, sir."

Relieved. "Thanks."

"No problem. We all care about him." Worried. "So how is he?"

Even more worried. "Still no change. I hope the Rockbells can help. He just ignores everything, I can't even find a starting point to help him, he just sits and gives me nothing to work with. At least he eats and drinks some more now. Though I still have to coax him for almost an hour, nearly spoon-feeding him, to get him to eat a normal-sized portion of stew, for that is the food he takes best. Maybe you can get him to eat something more solid while you're here, I once heard kids in distress react better towards women than men."

"I don't know about such a theory but I'll try." Determined.

"Okay, thank you. Really. I'll go sleep a few hours then... I sat him on the couch so you can keep an eye on him easier."

Severe. "Did you carry him? You are not supposed to carry heavy things, sir!"

Almost pouting. "No, I didn't. You know he follows where you lead him if you take him by the hand." Short thoughtful pause. "There's some ready tea in the kitchen, if he falls asleep and wakes up from a nightmare give some to him immediately. It's a good way to get some fluids into him and it usually calms him down when talking alone isn't enough... Feel free to use whatever else is in the kitchen, too. There's not much left, I need to go shopping really soon, but still, just take what you want." A bit insecure.

A smile in the voice. "All right, go to sleep, sir."

Ed felt Warm Rock pass him and his hair was ruffled. "See you later."

For a moment he kept being alert, but then he was pulled back in the fog because nothing else transpired and just because he registered the conversation doesn't mean he would endanger his numbness to think about its meaning. There were no key phrases like "take him somewhere", "take him away", or the likes that would have put him on alert. Though "get on the train" worried him a bit.

He was just sitting there, dully existing for a while longer, when there was some warmth on his cheek. When his head was gently turned without him doing it, he registered that it was a hand.

"...guess I've got your attention now?" Warm, gentle, motherly. Interesting; Professional Presence dropped its shield for once. "Though you are still not really looking at me, Ed, are you? Well then let me tell you what I see, because maybe you're at least listening. You look even worse than the colonel. Maybe you had some more sleep than him, but otherwise... Please eat something Edward." A sad sigh.

That tone, that warm female voice... it reminded him of something, something he had lost and wanted back. Professional Presence vanished for a short time, then came back. There was the touch on his cheek again, turning his head to get his attention. Then he felt warmth on his hand. It got grabbed, he realised after a few seconds.

"I got you a sandwich. I guess the colonel made it earlier but put it away, when you didn't eat it, hm? How about you try and eat at least half of it now? You're a growing boy, you need your nutrition..."

He felt something being given to him. _You're a growing boy, you need your nutrition..._ He'd heard that before, when he was little, and he had been given food then, too. Though back then it had sounded more cheerful. It had been his mother and she had been happy when he grinned and ate what she made him. He needed to make her happy too now, he loved her. So the boy bit into the sandwich, the female voice still talking, lulling him into safety, merging with his mother's. But then after a few bites he stopped.

Remembering his mother meant remembering she was dead. It meant remembering that fateful transmutation, and all the other horrible things that followed from then on. It meant remembering Al. Ed felt like there were ashes in his mouth. He swallowed because he deserved nothing better than that, but he couldn't bring himself to take another bite. This was the same trap that lurked around as when he stayed with Gentle Presence.

The pictures in his mind started to burst through his defensive walls again, awareness growing. It was like a nightmare, though this time he was awake, he knew he was awake and he wouldn't be able to wake up to warmth. Warmth, where was Warm Rock? That particular presence that had seemed to never be more than three steps away from him since he first found it again, wasn't detectable. But it was supposed to be there!

He didn't know why, but it was important, he wanted it to be there, he needed something from it that he had wanted earlier too, but didn't get and couldn't pinpoint. Like he couldn't pinpoint the whereabouts of Warm Rock right now. Feeling the starts of the panic his walls were supposed to hold back, he decided that first he needed to calm down again, otherwise he would go crazy and that wouldn't help him find what he was looking for.

So the boy shoved everything down as good as he could for the moment, leaving just the question of where Warm Rock was in his mind. Those few brain cells that were still allowed to work took on deciphering what his senses told him, all of them for this was an emergency. For the first time since he drowned himself in foggy numbness again his eyes sent a useful signal and his hazy gaze stopped on a door. He didn't know why but he was sure it was the right door. Ed stood and went over to it.

Something blocked his way though when he was about to knock on it. Blinking, he stood there, momentarily confused. Then he caught on to the fact that some interaction was necessary to get where he wanted to go. He forced himself to concentrate on the interfering presence.

"Ed, what is it? Is it something important or do you just want something to drink or something? Because those things you can ask me for. The colonel needs some sleep, so please tell me before you disturb him unnecessarily..."

Too complicated to deal with. Ed settled to walking around it, that should tell the interfering Professional Presence that what he wanted right now was important, even though he couldn't put his finger on just what it was. The boy raised his hand and timidly knocked on the door. No answer. He bit his lip, feeling the panic rise. He knocked again, a bit more urgently. Professional Presence made a move towards the door.

"Let me open it a bit and call for him, he's asleep, he probably doesn't hear the knocking..." The door opened a bit, but Ed shook his head and pulled it close again.

" _My bedroom is off limits for anyone who isn't invited in by me. Though feel free to knock and ask me for whatever you need any time."_

Edward knocked louder, actually hammered his metal fist against the door. Finally there was a groggy, "Yes, what is it?" Taking that as permission granted, he practically burst into the room. Then he stopped. Warm Rock was back within the three steps radius again. What to do now?

"Fullmetal?... Edward? What is it?" Concerned, a bit surprised.

Yes, what was it? What did he want? He knew he needed to tell. Warm Rock was good at giving answers, but that didn't help if there was no question to begin with.

So Ed paced the room, opening his mouth to speak every now and then but nothing came, no conclusion, no words. In the end he just collapsed on the double bed he was pacing up and down next to and fell asleep from sheer exhaustion through despair. Before his eyes closed though he heard a wry sigh.

"Hey Lieutenant, you mind watching us both sleep? I think if I leave for the couch there will be a repeat of the whole thing."

"I don't mind sir, you fall asleep on your paperwork often enough, I know how you look drooling."

"I don't drool!"

"Are you sure?"

"Yes, my papers are never stained when I wake up on them."

Ed smiled and drifted of. Hearing those presences bicker was like a soothing lullaby. It calmed him, assured him that even though he failed today he'd still remembered what he needed eventually. After all, if there was room for friendly bickering, then the world couldn't end just yet.


	23. Starting And Finding

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Guessing game from the last chapter:  
> Warm Rock: Roy Mustang  
> Professional Presence: Riza Hawkeye  
> Gentle Presence: Gracia Hughes  
> Innocent Presence: Elicia Hughes  
> Have fun guessing who Wise Presence and Waiting Presence are :)

Ed liked the train. He thought he hated it earlier because it might take Warm Rock away, but he was allowed to join it on its journey so now he was into the ride. The landscape rushing past the window had something soothing and Warm Rock was right next to him. It was busy with "catching up to stupid paperwork" most of the time but Ed didn't mind, he would just snatch the papers away and start talking should he remember what he was looking for and until then he was happy with Warm Rock just being around. He felt he could ride this train, like, forever, but after an undefined time span Professional Presence shooed them off, claiming they arrived.

It was then that the nagging feeling that the landscape he'd been watching became more and more familiar was proved right. He realised that they had gone to the place that hurt because he wasn't supposed to be here until he had reached a goal. Ed froze on the spot. Why were they here? Did he do something wrong? (Yes you did, you idiot!) Did Warm Rock want to get rid of him after all? He felt it taking him by the hand, coaxing him to follow.

"Come on Fullmetal, don't you want to see the Rockbells?"

Did he? Well, he loved them and he would really like to check if they were all right, but he didn't feel like facing them. He just couldn't, not when he was so... well what was he? (A horrible idiot who screwed up so much and doesn't deserve them!) Ed winced, physically recoiling from his mind and thoughts while his soul hid behind metaphorical walls again.

He could feel Warm Rock's eyes on him. The presence was radiating confusion, concern, and a hint of annoyance. And where other people would have disliked the warm presence or felt guilty because of its annoyance, Ed felt reassured. After all, if there was a bit of annoyance and/or mocking involved then he could be sure that things with the Warm Rock were normal. It was just how they interacted, and the fact that it mellowed a bit but didn't change completely allowed him a sense of normality that he craved for. It was a fix point he could focus on even though right now he wasn't sure about anything but that he didn't want to face his crime and was searching for the second something that might help.

Finally he started walking, swallowing hard but trusting Warm Rock. He knew it was only trying to help, even though he didn't always understand what it was up to. He knew in the end it just wanted the best for him. He just knew.

_Because that's all I ever wanted: To make this twisted world a bit better._

And then they reached the house he knew well and were greeted by a presence he knew just as well. It was the Wise Presence. Wise because it had seen many years, knew so much that could only be taught by life but not by books.

"Well, well, the military dog looks like it got kicked. So what happened and why are you here?" it asked, not very pleased. It didn't wait for the answer though and beckoned them in first. Ed could feel it scrutinising him. Hanging his head to hide behind his bangs, he tried to get a hold of Warm Rock's hand again. He just couldn't face it. He had managed after his first big screw up and the second, but this third one was a horrible-tasting icing on the metaphorical cake that left him feeling too sick to try again.

Warm Rock politely sat where it was told to and Ed was forced to sit on the other side of the table. Waiting Presence came and joined them. He called it the Waiting Presence because he left it behind here in this place so often, but whenever he came back it was very happy to see him like it had always only waited for him. Just like now. It hugged him, got angry for a moment, then very worried. Ed felt guilty; he didn't want it to worry, but he didn't know what to do about it. He was tense as Wise Presence took the other seat next to him.

"Well?" it asked.

(I can't tell you, I won't be able to bear the look on your face)

But the question was for Warm Rock and it answered. "I apologise for imposing on you and I apologise for failing in keeping Edward safe." It was polite but sincere. "I tried to look after him, I really did, but then something happened. And I have to admit I don't even know what exactly that was. I only know that he seemed to be his old self again but then we got involved in a fight and in the middle of the chaos somewhere something made him snap again. I got, as you already realised, kicked pretty good so I didn't get everything that happened near the end of the fight, but I trust my team to tell the truth when they say he was already like this when they finally got to him and checked him over for injuries. Whatever it was, it happened somewhere between me getting kicked and him getting checked, but he won't tell and no one else has a clue."

Edward had the feeling that somewhere, somehow he already knew about the stuff that was being told, so he blocked it out, uncaring. Though he still listened to the tone of voice. He could hear that Warm Rock was blaming itself. Why was it blaming itself? Edward was the one who had the reasons to feel guilty, he did-... He shut this thought process down right there and instead decided to listen to the words as well now, trying to find out why Warm Rock was blaming itself.

"Because of that," Now it sounded like Warm Rock was reluctant but knew it had to be said and done. "I am here to ask you for help because, truthfully, I can't keep him safe when he doesn't look out for himself in the slightest. There are some new and dangerous developments which I need to work out, but he needs constant care to recover yet with all that's going on I can't provide that. And even if I was in the condition to properly take care of him, I wouldn't know how to for he doesn't respond and I have nowhere to start. So I ask you to take him in again and keep him safe and out of trouble here in Resembool- " But Ed wasn't listening any more.

It was like his entire system was shocked into complete stillness. Like every nerve connection in his brain was blocked because all the energy was stolen from the few synapses that had to process the information he just heard. And those synapses had a hard time because the information they processed before, the panicked _please don't say it!,_ lingered still, trying to keep them from confirming what his ears just told them. But they did confirm it. Suddenly he knew the suitcase Warm Rock had carried was not for all of them because they were going to stay a few days. It was his alone. Only he was supposed to stay here. And it was like a kick in the stomach. It caught his breath and made him want to throw up.

Waiting Presence was talking to him now, asking questions and speaking random words of comfort. This care that he didn't deserve only made things worse though. Finally Warm Rock rose from its seat. It came over, stood in front of Ed and its voice had the calm confidence of someone who knew how to make themselves be heard.

"Just tell us what it is, Fullmetal."

And Ed started to tremble. He was too scared to tell them. He couldn't even admit it to himself, so how was he supposed to tell?!

"Come on, Edward..." Warm Rock pressed.

Should he, should he not? Could he, could he not? Ed started to sweat and his breathing increased, nearing the point were it turned to hyperventilating.

"Soldier back off, let the boy breathe. We don't want him to faint," Wise Presence ordered, clearly displeased with Warm Rock. "Winry, take them to the kitchen for some coffee, I'll stay with Ed so he can calm down without distraction before we start again."

Ed only registered Warm Rock moving away. Was it leaving already? It walked towards the door! No, NO, that presence couldn't leave, he trusted it! Why didn't it stay or take Ed with it? Was Ed unimportant to it after all, did it just trick him, string him along as long as he was useful? Please no, please no, he knew it was prone to tricking people, but only enemies, right? Right? It couldn't just walk out of the door, he couldn't bear to see someone so important walk out of the door! But it was already putting its foot in the doorway, it was leaving him here, oh please no, please NO, not that again! Ed jumped to his feet to follow so fast that his leg got caught in the table-leg and sent him to the floor. Immediately he tried to get up again, kicking his chair away and nearly falling again in his haste.

"Sir!" Professional Presence said alarmed but Warm Rock had halted and turned already. For a second it seemed confused, then concerned, and then it came back. It came back! Putting a placating and reassuring hand on Ed's shoulder it made him sit again, obviously afraid he might hurt himself somewhere, and then remained standing next to him. Slowly, Ed stopped moving and calmed down.

"Has this ever happened before?" Wise Presence asked. Edward was now cautious, listening to it for it might try to make the Warm Rock go away again.

"Well when they first allowed him to see me after the fight he threw a real tantrum at the end of visiting hours until they allowed for him to stay. And since then he always made sure I'm never more than a few steps away. I thought it was because in Central I'm the person he knows best and therefore trusts the most, but I never thought he'd still be like this with you around..."

Good, there were no words that indicated that Warm Rock still wanted to leave. Edward felt himself relax again. But Wise Presence spoke again, freezing his blood "Well, now that we're warned, please go to the kitchen." And it put a hand on Ed's other shoulder to keep him calm when Warm Rock took its hand away.

Warm Rock seemed reluctant but it did as it was told. And Ed wanted to follow again. But he couldn't, he didn't want to risk hurting Wise Presence while shoving it out of the way. So all he could do was start to shake like a leaf once again and hang his head. His automail was rattling like the chain of a ghost in a horror story and he could feel a lump starting to close his throat. But then who was he to stop someone from walking away from someone as horrible as he was? Though it hurt, it really hurt. Even though he deserved it, it ate away his heart.

And then Warm Rock stopped again, determined. "I'm sorry Mrs Rockbell, but I won't leave him like that. I'll stay while he calms down." And it started to walk back to Edward.

Wise Presence sounded content. "And here we have the reason why he's scared all of a sudden." It pointed at Warm Rock taking its place beside Ed's chair again "It's exactly this behaviour that makes him depend on you so much. You're a really stupid man if you think he only freaked out when they wanted to separate you because he had no one else in Central. That boy trusts you with all he has, Colonel Mustang, and he does so because he knows you won't leave him hanging. He knows you try to, I even think he knows you _can_ set things right for him. And he's scared because of you leaving."

"But he shouldn't be, I don't even know how to _start_ helping..."

"You really _are_ dense. You already started by deciding to come out here and have me shove you into the right direction!"

Warm Rock might have answered something, but it was surprised by Edward standing and wrapping his arms around it for the boy had finally realised that Wise Presence's hand wasn't keeping him on the chair anymore. Ed distantly felt stupid for it but he just needed to keep Warm Rock close, it had decided to stay with him and he wanted it to know how grateful he was for that so maybe it would decide to not leave him here. He buried his face in its chest, feeling its momentary confusion and embarrassment slowly fade away until it finally wrapped its arms around him, too. The young alchemist smiled and happily squeezed the warm body some more. Immediately its hold on him tightened as well.

But something was wrong. While the grip tightened, the body also stiffened, holding its breath. It was less like a stronger hug and more like muscles involuntarily contracting in order to endure pain. But why should there be pain? He heard Professional Presence ask a worried "Colonel?" and lessened his hold.

"I'm fine," Warm Rock replied but Ed knew it was a lie. There was definitely something wrong, but what? Maybe he wasn't careful enough with his automail arm and some metal part of it had dug into the Warm Rock's side, bruising it? He needed to check, he didn't want to hurt it, not again. So he stepped back. Carefully shoving up the uniform jacket he ignored protest and questions, his flesh hand tenderly prodding and searching for injury underneath the shirt. And finding one. Only it felt like it was already bandaged because it had happened before today...

His eyes widened. How could he have been so stupid, how could he have forgotten something like _this_?! Warm Rock was hurt, it got stabbed. No not _it_ , but _he_ , the _colonel_!

And Edward had _forgotten_ about it!

The boy's eyes widened as he was shocked into awareness. He had blacked out and turned numb in the middle of a fight where his friends' lives were in danger. He had forgotten about the colonel being injured and left him to fight his way out of the situation alone. Mustang could have been killed! Would Ed have even realised his death? He didn't know an answer to this question. He only knew that he was the most stupid and selfish person in the world and that Mustang had every right to leave him to rot away in Resembool.

Eyes still wide, he backed away from the colonel. The man must be so disappointed, so angry, how the hell did he even manage to be civil, even caring, towards Edward during the last... Ed didn't even know how long it had been! He made another step back, pressing his head in his hands.

Useful, Mustang must have tried to find out whether Ed might return to a useful state. It was the only reason why the colonel could have kept him along. His thrive for Führer was above his personal dislikes towards Edward. But now the Flame had given up on him, leaving him behind in the easiest way that wouldn't damage his image in front of his subordinates. Though those probably hated Edward too for not looking after their commander but taking so much of his time and care.

He backed off some more and then decided to run. Yes run, run away and spare everyone from all the sorrow he brought with him. There was no way he could face them now, no way he could ask them to care about him when he himself didn't manage to care about them. No, all he could do was run, run, _run_ until he died from exhaustion and the world was finally free from him.

A firm grip on the hood of his red coat jerked him back and ended his plan to flee.

"Didn't I tell you not to run away?" Mustang asked him, turning Ed towards him, one eyebrow raised.

Yes Edward remembered running into Mustang in the alley, remembered the slap that caught his attention so he would listen to the words. _"Don't you dare to ever run away again! Do you know how worried you had us?"_

But he didn't deserve their worry. Not when... "I forgot, Colonel, you were wounded and I _forgot_!" he cried, voice shaking. He started to pull at his bangs as he pressed his fists to his head. "I need to get away from you all, I'm horrible! How can you even stand talking to me?! I, I just forgot, I can believe I forgot, I-, I-, please don't hate me! No, _do_ hate me! Get away and stay safe I-, I-"

"Edward."

The calm interruption shut him up immediately. He stared at the colonel. Mustang looked calm and very serious, yet there still was a tiny lift to the corner of his mouth and a glint in his black eyes that took the edge of the grave expression and Ed's fear away.

"It's called s _hock_ , and it happens even to the best. I don't hate you, nor am I angry. Just tell us what brought it on so we can work on it not happening again."

Edward just stared for a while longer. Though he couldn't find any lie or the trace of a mask on Mustang's face. "You... you really don't.." he realised, baffled.

The colonel nodded.

"But-"

"No buts."

"But-"

"I said _no buts_ , Fullmetal."

He stared at Mustang who looked and sounded ready to even make full use of his position as Ed's commanding officer to get his point across. The colonel had made up his mind and Ed wouldn't be able to change it. And that's when it clicked. The reason why he was clinging so much to Mustang was simple: One of the two things he was searching for because he needed it to get better, was someone who he could confess his sin to without having to fear being abandoned for it. Someone who would listen to the end and think about what he had been told instead of just judging Ed after a few words. And if they judged then it would be fair and well thought of. It would help Ed go on and maybe even atone for his sins in a fair punishment. And this someone just had to be the colonel.

Winry and Pinako already had to forgive him for screwing up Al's transmutation and taking him from them. He couldn't bring himself to tell them just what else this transmutation had cost. They should live their happy and peaceful lives in Resembool without him always ruining things for them. And even if he told them and they still decided to take care of him again and not hate him, they still couldn't _understand_ the whole thing or help him live with it. Something Mustang could though. The colonel was also an alchemist and a rather smart one at that. He could follow Ed's train of thought no matter how messed up or diffused with alchemy laws they were. And even more important: Amestrian soldiers were no strangers to killing. So Mustang just had to know a way out of the swamp made up of blood and guilt because the colonel was still here. A bit damaged, but here, which meant he made it out.

Though would the colonel really be willing to help him so much, again? He said he wasn't angry at or hated Ed, and Ed believed him, but still. Weren't they here so he would stay with the Rockbells? Was he important enough to the colonel to make him rethink his decision and put up with him some more, despite all the other troubles that lay ahead of them and would keep them busy?

Well, there was only one way to find that out. Ed tucked at Mustang's sleeve. "Cook pasta!"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> By the way: At this point the story reached 200 reviews on FFN and I wrote a special for that. Look it up, I made it part of this series ;P


	24. The Cooking Colonel

Ed tugged at Mustangs sleeve. "Cook pasta!"

He could feel them all stare at him, baffled and not sure they could believe their ears.

"Did Ed just ask him to cook?" Winry inquired, puzzled.

"I think he did." Hawkeye provided an answer.

Finally Mustang found his voice again as well. "I beg your pardon?" He tried to confirm that he had just heard Ed seemingly randomly ask him to cook. If Ed was his normal self he would be rolling on the floor laughing at the dumbfounded expression on the older alchemist's face. As it was Ed simply demanded again: "Cook Pasta!"

He knew they probably thought he'd finally lost it completely, but it was important that the Flame caught on to this on his own. Ed just couldn't flat out ask him for help, not when he just discovered that he had forgotten about Mustang being injured and kept the man busy with his own selfish demands instead of looking out for him and returning the favour of all the care he had received, for once. He did understand that Mustang didn't hold it against him, but Ed still felt really stupid and guilty. And so, even though he really wanted, _needed_ , the colonel to be the one he told about his crime, he was determined to only accept the help if Mustang offered it out of his own free will and without being asked. Because if Mustang offered it like this, like it was kind of natural and important to him, then Ed knew it was okay. Okay because Mustang saw it fitting and didn't push other important matters to the side because he felt obliged to help. Ed would give him a nudge in the right direction but it would be the colonel's choice to take the hint and act on it. So Mustang could refuse to help without feeling too bad about it or having to explain himself, and if he chose to listen to Ed's confession of his sin then only because he really wanted to.

At the moment the Flame Alchemist was scrutinising Ed, trying to gauge if the boy had gone into another, really weird, phase of his coping mechanism or if he was still with them. "Edward, we're not in our Central apartment. If you want food then you have to ask the Rockbell ladies," he tentatively tried at last.

While Pinako snorted a bit at the 'ladies' part, Ed shook his head. "No. _You_ cook pasta."

Mustang still looked slightly confused, though it was honest and not because he had caught on and decided not to help. But at least he seemed to slowly understand that Ed had a reason for his request. Though that didn't change the fact that he was uncomfortable with just starting to cook in the house of people he met so often, his fingers were enough to count it off. "Fullmetal, I really don't think I should-"

"Go use the kitchen, Colonel." Granny Pinako interrupted and Ed was thankful that she too understood he was trying to accomplish something. "Cook for five and we'll have an early dinner. The ingredients for simple pasta should all be there somewhere."

Mustang sheepishly scratched at his neck for a moment, looking from Pinako, who calmly lit and smoked her pipe, to Hawkeye, who gave a tiny nod, and back before his gaze stopped on Edward.

He sighed. "Fine, I'll do it," and nodded his head in a way that indicated Ed should show him to the kitchen. "I've really spoiled you too much. Don't think I'll become your chef on request now," the colonel grumbled as he followed the smaller alchemist. Ed just grinned. He knew Mustang only complained because he didn't want to admit he was relieved that Edward was willing to interact with people again and hoped he could maybe coax the boy into some friendly bantering to keep him speaking and reacting to them.

Though Edward's grin faded when they made it to the kitchen and he sat at the table there. The boy was nervous now, not knowing how things would work out but hoping for the best even though he felt he didn't deserve it.

In his kitchen at home Mustang always seemed confident and nonchalant, pulling things from the shelves without really looking because he just knew where everything was. A significant difference to now, where the colonel stood clueless in an unfamiliar kitchen. He looked at the door for a moment, searching for the Rockbells and Hawkeye, but the three women seemed to have decided that he and Ed needed some kind of _men time_ and had gone somewhere else. Ed just knew they were still somewhere close enough to listen in though. Mustang looked at him for a second, but the Fullmetal Alchemist remained seated and waiting, so the colonel finally sighed, shrugged, and settled to just going through the cupboards until he found all the stuff he needed. Once that was done his movements became more confident again. He even took off the blue uniform jacket, draped it over the back of the chair Edward wasn't sitting on, and rolled up his sleeves. Ed watched as he put ingredients together, once again not pleased with the amount of salt the recipe asked for and adding some more. Finally everything was on the stove and the colonel stirred the sauce every now and then while it heated up. He turned slightly towards the still waiting Ed, looking for what the boy was doing and suddenly stopped in the motion.

And Ed knew the colonel had finally realised that something about this situation was familiar. He watched as it obviously _clicked_ in Mustang's brain and bit his lip. The Flame had received the nudge. Now what would he make of it?

The colonel nonchalantly turned back towards the stove, stirring the sauce once more and Edward felt his heart drop. So the colonel decided to ignore-

"Last time I cooked pasta we had a rather deep conversation... I assume you want one again?" Mustang looked over his shoulder, smirking, though it was friendly. _God_ , was Ed relieved. His dropped heart climbed back to its usual place and started beating again. He licked his lips and nodded. The colonel raised an eyebrow. "You could have just asked."

Ed shook his head, no. Mustang just looked at him for a moment longer, then shook his head as well. Edward felt like the colonel knew exactly what had been going on in his head when he decided not to ask but hope for Mustang to offer the support.

"Next time you make me cook just because you're on an unnecessary guilt trip I'll cook _you_ along with the pasta." The colonel finally threatened, but he wasn't serious. Though that changed with the next sentence. "I might bite, but never enough to kill. And what doesn't kill you only makes you stronger. So if you want me to listen to you just speak up, understood?"

Ed nodded. Mustang seemed content. "Well, I'm listening," he said, turning to stirring the sauce again.

Edward took a deep breath. This was it. Either he was damn lucky and even after this revelation the colonel would still put up with him, or he'd lose someone who wouldn't even fully fit in any category of people you consider close, but was still very important. He wasn't really family, he wasn't really a friend, he was something very unique in between. But Ed couldn't bother any less with defining their relationship as long as it stayed the way it was because, as short as he had been living it, he was really content and pleased with their crazy little life in the Central apartment.

Of course he would go out on missions again some day and finally find his own way again, but it was really good to know that there was always an open door he could return to when he wanted to. A place to recover and collect new energy and receive help to go on. A place to just relax. Something Resembool couldn't be because his small hometown was the place where the journey would end, where he would stay when he finally accomplished one of the goals he set himself. And until then he couldn't rest in Resembool, it just stressed him to no end when he was there and still, even after so much time, hadn't accomplished anything. So, until he could stay at Resembool with his soul and mind at ease he wanted to relax to Mustang, complaining about the milk in the fridge being gone again. Finally, he started speaking, putting it all on the line.

"Kimbley told me something before he died. You didn't hear, did you?" he asked quietly.

Mustang shook his head. "No, I only had a screaming homunculus assaulting my hearing."

Ed swallowed. "When Kimbley talks about _a lot_ of humans, how many humans does he mean, what do you think?"

Black eyes narrowed in thought as their owner tried to estimate where this was going. "We once met on the battlefield and he told me I didn't need to follow this street, he already killed the few over there. I asked what he meant with _a few_ and he said 132. So I guess if he speaks about a _lot_ he means at least a thousand. Why are you asking?"

Ed's stomach dropped. Oh he hated himself, he really hated himself. And Mustang would hate him too. But he needed to get it out now that he had come so far without shutting down, or he'd be lost. He felt like throwing up, but he forced the contents of his stomach to stay there and only choked out words. "Because he told me that... that to create a philosopher's stone you need a lot... a lot of..." _No_ , he couldn't do this, he couldn't say this! But then the words already spilled over his tongue like a surge of vomit that can't be held back any more."A lot of human souls."

Mustang was quiet for a while, digesting the information, while stirring the sauce like he didn't even realise he was still doing so. Ed swallowed, waiting for the colonel's reaction. And how he _hated_ this waiting. It strained his nerves to a point where he was sure they would snap, leaving him a complete wreck, soon.

"Did you consider that maybe Kimbley was lying, just for the hell of it?" Mustang finally asked, like a last try to deny the horrible truth.

Ed sadly shook his head, speaking quietly what he didn't want to hear from himself. "I'm quite sure he didn't. I-...I mean this..." he swallowed again, "horrible price is a perfect reason why this stone is such a myth and why it is so hard to find. And also... I met Doctor Marcoh once..." Mustang stared at him, mouth opening to ask a flabbergasted "You know Marcoh?!" but Ed continued before the colonel could get out a single word.

"It was luck, we met him in this village while passing through. Armstrong recognised him. And-... and he had this stone. A real one. He was using it to heal the people in his village, so we didn't take it away from him. But he told us where his research was hidden. Though he claimed it was the devil's research, despicable and never to get in the wrong hands. Yet by the time we arrived at the library where it was supposed to be hidden everything was burned. But we met Sheska and she knew it all by heart and copied it down for us. It's written in code. A really good code," he laughed a mirthless little laugh, "it drives you crazy to try and decipher it. We were so frustrated, and then we heard of the other stone and decided to take a break and pursue it; the research papers wouldn't run away after all. I was so stupid, just because I was _frustrated_!" He slammed his fists on the table and buried his head in his arms, still continuing though. "We found this stone and we tested it a bit and then we just... we just..." His shoulders started shaking, "I should have insisted on finishing decoding Marcoh's research before we used that stone, I shouldn't have rushed Al into this...I should have thought for once, should have remembered what Marcoh said. Then maybe Al would still be here... and I... I would have never become a murderer!"

For a moment there was only silence.

"A murderer," Mustang finally snorted, like Ed said something ridiculous. The boy's head shot up and he stared at the colonel who was leaning against the counter, arms crossed in front of his chest and one eyebrow sceptically raised. "You are no murderer, Fullmetal," he assured him calmly.

"DIDN'T YOU LISTEN?!" Ed suddenly yelled, the stress making him pant. And here he trusted the colonel to really listen. "I killed those souls, I _am_ a murderer!"

"No you are not," Mustang said, his voice sounding final as he turned back to the stove, dismissing the topic as if they had discussed it to the end and Mustang's opinion was the right one.

"You don't get it, you didn't listen, YOU DON'T GET IT!" Ed pulled at his hair. If Mustang didn't get it then who was there to help him?

The colonel turned around again, looking pissed in a way he normally did when Ed insulted his intelligence. "Yes, I _did_ listen, and yes I _did_ get that you probably used all those souls. But you still aren't a murderer."

"Yes I am!"

"No you are not!" The noodles still on the stove started to boil over and Mustang spun and turned the heat down, roughly stirring the pot's contents to try and prevent them from reaching the rim of the pot and spilling over.

Ed just wanted to scream. "Why don't you understand, I _killed_ them! I-"

"I _do_ understand," Mustang interrupted and Ed didn't protest, flinching from the harsh tone. "I understand you used, killed, them but never with the _intention_ to do so! If you had known what that stone was made of, you would have never used it, right?" Ed nodded, no he would have never done that! "Well there you are. You may have used those souls but you _didn't know_ , you had _no intention_ to, it was an _accident_. No murder. You can be forgiven, if you'd just understand that!"

"But-."

"Once again: _There are no buts_!"

"But I killed them!" Ed helplessly cried. He felt so confused.

"And there's still a difference between you and a murderer!" Mustang insisted.

"No there isn't." He hung his head, believing to speak the truth.

Suddenly Ed was grabbed by the collar and yanked up, back against the wall behind the chair he sat on only a second ago. He was forced to look into those piercing dark eyes, close enough to see the tiny tinge of blue that separated the black of the irises from the pupils. There was something very cold and very ugly lurking in those eyes now, small and hidden beneath anger, but still there. And it scared the hell out of him.

"Now listen to me." There was an edge in the colonel's voice that made him want to hide. "When we played cards, you said 'it takes one to know one'. Well it really does. And I am one. _I_ am a murderer. That crazy creature, Lust, it dissolved when it died and its core was a damn philosoper's stone! And I had intentionally killed it. Just like I killed in that fucked up war. Districts worth of Ishbalans, Edward, _districts_. I can see the eyes of a killer in every soldier that had been there with me and I can see the eyes of a killer every time I look into a damned mirror! But I still don't see those eyes on you. There is a difference between you and a murderer, Edward Elric, because you are not one." The grip on his collar tightened to emphasise the words. "You. Are. No. Murderer. All _you_ are is someone with very bad luck!" And with that he was dropped back on his chair and Mustang stomped out of the kitchen, carelessly rushing past the three women who had been listening in at the door.

The second thing Edward needed to get better was someone who told him that everything would be all right again sometime, and that he could find a way to atone for his sin. Maybe even someone who'd hug him and tell him he was still loved.

But as he watched in shock as Mustang left, he concluded that this frightening explosion did the job just as well.

And Ed found himself wondering if it was really him who needed a hug right now.

* * *

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yes, if the stone Ed used for Al's transmutation was the real thing and really made of human souls then the transmutation would have probably worked out. So yes, the colonel and Ed will consider that maybe Ed didn't use souls after all, once they calmed down from the initial shock of the news. Blame them being slow on me being sadistic. I just couldn't resist having them freak out a bit, you may hate me for that.


	25. Conversation Between Those Who Forgot The Food On The Stove

After a moment that felt like eternity but really wasn't that long, Ed slowly walked over to the kitchen door and looked after the colonel, but Mustang was already out of sight so he looked at the three women standing in the hallway. Like him, they were still a bit frozen in surprise.

Winry looked kind of shocked and confused; she probably never expected that Mustang was able to get upset or freak out. Much less because of the question of who had or had not killed. Soldiers weren't well liked out here in the east anyway and ever since her parents died in the Ishval War she had seen the state's dogs as emotionless, even cold blooded murderers who didn't care about how many lives they took and killed on command without flinching. Because of Ed she had warmed up to some of them, like Hughes and even Hawkeye to some degree, but Mustang was still part of her stereotype view. It hadn't helped that in the early days Ed had loved to rant about the colonel being a promotion obsessed bastard who only cared for himself.

Pinako was smoking her pipe, one eyebrow raised in a thoughtful expression. She was old, she had seen a lot of different people, she might have thought farther than Winry and realised there was more than a living weapon underneath that blue uniform. Ed couldn't tell. Though he could see that she nodded wryly because she was content. Content to know that Ed was under the wing of a state alchemist she could respect because the man still cared about lives being taken. She glanced at Hawkeye, trying to see how the lieutenant who knew her superior much better than them all reacted to his behaviour. Ed followed her gaze because if there was anyone who knew what to do now, it would be Hawkeye.

At first sight the lieutenant only looked baffled and a bit confused. She was not used to Mustang stomping away like that, ignoring her as he rushed past, no, she was used to him dealing with the situation with a cynical comment and then later go home early to vent whatever emotion he had hidden without witnesses because he would never allow people to see what affected him. Underneath that baffled look though Hawkeye seemed sad, even as she donned up her calm and collected exterior again. Ed didn't know why she was sad, maybe it was because her friends were upset, maybe because she was upset herself because she had been in Ishval as well and was now reminded of her deeds. Anyway, it made him feel worse for causing all this by arguing his point until Mustang snapped.

"I'll go after him and convince him to come inside again, if I leave him to calm down on his own he'll stay out there until he catches a cold from the rain." Hawkeye finally sighed, sounding like an exasperated babysitter and therefore doing an excellent job of playing the situation down by pretending that her superior was just a whiny one who always overreacted. It was a simple trick to make it seem like the sour spot of Mustang that was hit was barely worth mentioning and no good ammunition against the colonel. The ever present political tension in the military ranks in central over the years had taught her to act like this almost on instinct, always set on protecting her colonel even in the most subtle way. Only things like him not doing his paperwork made her exasperated for real.

Now Hawkeye walked into the kitchen to gather Mustang's jacket, but Ed beat her into it. Grabbing the thick blue fabric he finally decided on what to do. "I will go after him. It's my fault he ran out."

Hawkeye shook her head and extended an arm to stop him. "No, I think it's better if I do that. You see, the colonel isn't exactly easy to deal with when he is like this, I don't know if you can handle what he throws at you when you're upset yourself."

"The bastard's _never_ easy to deal with," Edward said with a small smile. "Just let me go and try."

The lieutenant just looked at him for a long moment, then slowly nodded once. "All right, I'll trust you to bring back our colonel with his brains inside of his head."

Edward nodded too, a silent promise, then left with the jacket over his arm. The boy wasn't exactly sure what to think of Hawkeye's last sentence but he was determined to talk to Mustang even though he was afraid that he might just upset the colonel even more. He went down the hallway to the front door and grabbed his red coat from were it hung, casting a slightly worried look at the black coat of the colonel that still hung on its rack before taking it as well. After a last glance at the women still standing in front of the kitchen door he marched out into the rain. He looked up at the dark clouds pouring water down on earth like they were trying to drown everything and huffed. Stupid weather trying to be dramatic and fit the situation. Then he set out to retrieve his commanding officer, still not entirely sure what to expect and what to do once he encountered the unexpected.

Hawkeye's words made sense when he finally caught sight of Mustang. He found the colonel with the barrel of his small black military issued gun against the side of his head, staring thoughtfully into the air in front of him. Ed froze on the spot and felt panic rise. There was no indication that Mustang was about to pull the trigger, but Ed wasn't reassured by that in the slightest. It needed just a twitch of that finger to set the gun off! He swallowed. He was used to being taken care of by the colonel, not the other way around... What should he do now? How was he supposed to behave now? Scream and yell and jump at Mustang to knock the gun away? No, that might startle him into accidentally pulling the trigger. Fall down on his knees and beg him not to do it? No, Ed was no good at begging. Cry and just tell him that he wanted him to live because he was important to Ed and the boy cared about and would miss him? No, that sounded so cheap even though it was true. He watched the colonel as he sat, motionless, against the trunk of the tree that sheltered him from the rain. Taking in a deep breath Ed decided on an approach that would fit his colonel bastard.

"No matter the situation, you'll always find a bit of shelter from the rain so you won't be a useless wet match, huh?" he said, though his tone lacked the mocking the words implied.

Mustang finally looked up, with a rueful smirk, and patted the pocket that contained his alchemy gloves. "Can't get these wet. My gloves are my weapons, my weapons are needed to defend myself and those I care about, so my weapons are my life."

"Not if you turn them against yourself," Ed concluded, glancing at the pistol.

Mustang chuckled bitterly and dropped the gun into his lap. "You're right. But then I'd never pull through with this anyway. In the beginning because I was too much of a coward and now because I have a damn lot of responsibility towards my subordinates. Nowadays I just raise this gun 'cause it helps me think and remember what I'm standing for. I never put off the safety though." He held out the gun and Ed could see that the safety mechanism was indeed still in place.

The boy sighed in relief. "That's good," he mumbled. Then he sat next to the colonel under the tree. He threw the blue jacket and black coat into Mustang's lap. And punched the colonel in the arm. Hard. With the automail.

The black haired man yelped. "Ouch! Hey! What was that for?!"

The blond crossed his arms in front of his chest and looked away. "So your arm hurts too much for you to raise that gun and scare me again."

Mustang blinked in surprise and stopped rubbing his arm. He looked thoughtful while absentmindedly putting the gun back in its holster on his belt. "Sorry for scaring you. Didn't think you'd come out here. Thought it'd be Hawkeye, she knows my idiosyncrasies." He then apologised, softly but sincerely.

"Right, she's your babysitter, huh?" Ed mocked, though friendlily. If they were mocking each other then everything was alright again and Mustang would know the apology was accepted. Ed knew he did when the colonel glared at him a lot less intensively than he would have done if Ed had said the babysitter line any other day. So for a minute they just sat there, content.

"I'm sorry I upset you." Ed then finally spoke what he had been thinking since Mustang left the kitchen, chewing on his lip and feeling guilty. "Should have realised earlier you had a point and stop arguing."

"Nah, it was I who upset me by myself," Mustang said with a shrug and leaned back against the tree trunk. "Kinda worked myself up about it."

"You always think everything is your fault, don't you?" Ed good-naturedly rolled his eyes.

A black eyebrow twitched. "Look who's talking!"

Ed laughed. "In the end were both stupid, huh?"

"I am _not_ stupid. But I agree that I don't always act the optimal way," Mustang admitted, grinning when Ed laughed once more. While the boy calmed from his laughter the colonel started to put on his jacket again, then the coat. But he stopped, dropping the black fabric back into his lap.

"Damn. Fullmetal?"

"Hmhm?"

"We _are_ stupid."

Ed blinked. Roy Mustang changing his mind about him not being stupid didn't happen every day. "How come?"

"Well... we were so fixated on feeling guilty, we didn't consider that maybe you didn't use these souls after all. I mean the transmutation...failed. Your stone didn't work out. So it was a fake, and who says that fake was made out of souls? Maybe that's why it didn't work, because if it was the real thing then all these souls should have been payment enough, right?"

A tiny flame of hope flickered in Ed's heart but his analytic brain stomped down on it immediately. "Maybe. But then what if there were souls in there but just...not enough or something? I mean, even if it was not as powerful as it is supposed to be, that thing still _was_ pretty powerful. I thought our fake stone was like the one that priest Cornello had back in Liore, though just a little bit better made, because it didn't fail when we tested it. You see, Cornello's stone could do quite a lot of things, he even transmuted chimeras with it. And even if in the end his stone failed, it _did_ work for a while and we never found out what it was made of. So maybe there too were souls, just not enough to reach the power of a full stone. Or maybe they were bound to the stone the wrong way or something, a prototype, a test for the creation of the real thing. Or maybe the guy we took the stone from had already drained a good part of the souls' energy before we could get our hands on it and we didn't realise it? And..." he swallowed because this was the theory he hated the most, "who says the souls inside can't kind of rebel against being used? I mean, what if they just hated me for using them without acknowledging their sacrifice? What if they wanted to be used for a greater good than just the wish of a selfish boy and his brother? What if they didn't want to be used at all?"

He watched as the colonel thoughtfully stared into the rain for a while before finally speaking. "If I was a soul inside of that stone I wouldn't mind to be used for the purpose of regaining the body of a child. Because I don't think these souls still have a body or a family to return to. And before I'd be trapped in a soul cocktail for the rest of eternity I'd gladly give up existence for a good cause, even if it's a small one. So even if there were souls capable of deciding what they are used for in there and you didn't acknowledge them because you didn't know about them, I don't think they hated you for it. I think they were happy you set them free." Mustang smiled ever so slightly and Ed couldn't help but feel better. It was funny how he had worked himself up about this thing so much and here the colonel calmed him down so easily, even though Mustang usually did the opposite, riling him up with short jokes and the like. Now though they shared an amicable silence, tension slowly dissolving because they knew the other could talk their worries away if they just indicated they needed a bit of a cheer up speech. It was nice. Very nice, Ed decided as he relaxed a bit.

"I guess we'll just never really know what exactly went wrong..." he said after a while, leaning his head back against the trunk of the tree and watching the raindrops catch in the leaves above them. He felt calm because even while he was sad that he'd probably never know, it didn't drive him crazy or made him angry anymore.

"We could try and find out a bit more than you already know about the origins of that fake stone, but that's all we could do I think," Mustang agreed.

Ed thought about it for a moment. Well, going out there and facing the world again would give him something to do and help him get back on his feet, wouldn't it? "Hm, I think I'll try that. Would make a nice first mission, eh?" The boy grinned wide like a Cheshire Cat for the first time in a long time.

The colonel just raised an eyebrow, then smirked. "You think you're up for missions again?"

Ed huffed, "Of course, why wouldn't I?"

"Maybe because less than two hours ago you tried to squeeze me to death because you didn't want to be away from me?"

"ARGH I didn't squeeze! You're just a little sissy who couldn't take a very manly thank-you hug!"

" _Little_ sissy? I'm sorry Fullmetal but I think I'm still taller than you. Like almost every other living being on this planet."

"WHO ARE YOU- wait! Ha you didn't object to being a sissy!"

"Why should I bother with the words, it's _obvious_ I'm not a sissy. That small offence just isn't worth any defense."

" _Small_ offence? Did you just call me small again?!"

"Maybe."

"...Mustang?"

"Yes?"

"I hate you."

The colonel just laughed and reached out to ruffle Ed's hair. "Yeah, I hate you too."

They sat there for a while longer, smiling contently until Mustang stretched his arms above his head and finally made to stand up. "Come on, this ground isn't really comfortable to sit on. Let's go back inside and eat din-" His face lost a little colour. "OH DAMN IT I FORGOT THE FOOD ON THE STOVE!"

And with that they sprinted back towards the house where they were greeted by three women who all looked ready to lecture them for various reasons.


	26. Interlude

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> (Mustang's POV)

Colonel Roy Mustang had never been a person to really eat breakfast. That changed though because of Edward Elric. Like a lot of other things did.

After the Massacre of Ishbal Roy had thought he knew just how cruel and unfair the world could be. Well, said cruel and unfair world taught him that it was always ready to show him a new way of being cruel and unfair. Its means of teaching was killing off the single man Roy had always thought of as nearly invincible, simply because he was too good to deserve death. He would have understood if he himself had been murdered in a telephone booth, taunted by the fact that help was just on the other end of he line but would never reach him in time, but he never understood why that fate came over Maes. Sure, the man _was_ annoying as hell with all his photographs and stories about his wife and daughter but Roy threatening him with murder if he didn't stop babbling several times had still always only been in jest. Because once the initial annoyance had subsided he'd always silently smile, glad that his best friend had this family full of love. He'd seen first hand on Fullmetal what a father who didn't seem to care could cause. So why a brilliant, loving, caring man like Maes Hughes, who always only wanted the best for the people around him, had to die was beyond Roy's understanding.

And it set him on edge, made him anxious, fearing even more for every other person he cared about being hurt. Roy started to dig into the case, trying to find out what had happened to Maes so he could keep it from happening to someone else. He wasn't allowed to openly freak out, his team needed him as a strong leader so he worried silently (they caught on anyway, he realised with a warm smile) but it was hard to keep his protective string under control and not just keep everyone locked up in his office day out day in until all danger was gone. That simply wouldn't do them any good, after all the danger wouldn't vanish on its own, they had to fight it. He had to let them do their job outside of his line of sight as well, not matter how much it bugged him.

So when Fullmetal didn't report back from his current trip after two weeks, like he was supposed to, Roy barely waited the necessary twenty-four hours before he ordered people to track the two young alchemists down, disguising his fear for their safety by saying he would finally drill some military courtesy into Ed, the boy couldn't act like a spoiled brat and ignore the rules forever, Roy was done being lenient. At that point he still had enough optimism left to be sure they'd find him and Al unharmed somewhere in a village in the middle of nowhere where there was simply no phone to call him with, or cooped up in some ancient library, nose too deep in a book to remember Fullmetal's commanding officer expected them to call. The boy would be annoyed and rant at him for being paranoid and disturbing him in his research again.

But Roy didn't get that rant. Instead the cruel and unfair world chose to teach him another unnecessary lesson. It seemed the universe didn't like that tiny human Roy Mustang who wanted to make the world better. It was too proud of the world it had constructed to allow the ones who had to live in it to help improve it, no, instead it made people suffer and showed him once again that he was too helpless to help. Roy hated it. It was one of the reasons why he would not allow himself to give up. After getting the boy out of that basement, burning the gruesome corpse and sweeping up the ashes to bring what was left of the brothers back to Resembool, he swore to himself he'd help Edward get back on his feet.

Problem was: Roy had no idea how to do so.

He decided that first Edward should recover with his fami-...the people he considered family, catch himself with the help of those who were closest to him. That would surely put some life back in those terrifyingly empty eyes, right? It had to. So for the moment Roy left the boy with those who were cut out to comfort the boy much better than he ever could: the Rockbells.

The case of a horrible murder thankfu-... no, he couldn't be thankful for people dying. Anyway, the case kept him busy and his thoughts away from the question of Edward Elric making progress and the safety of everyone, more or less allowing him to kind of relax for a while because his worry was drowned in work. Since he hadn't heard anything from the boy he simply assumed that he wasn't ready to go back into active service yet and still needed some time. He didn't mind giving time to the boy, seeing the first corpse of his current case had reminded Roy so much of that thing that should have been Alphonse that he had wanted to burn it and then go and throw up. He had pulled himself together though, not willing to drop his mask in front of some investigation team and then proceeded to investigate, glad that Fullmetal wasn't around because the boy would have surely wanted to help them and if he himself could barely stomach that corpse... he didn't want to know what the view would do to Edward.

After a month though he had to go and visit Fullmetal because, while he was allowed to give the boy some time, he couldn't just leave him somewhere without some documents being filled and filed. It was doing paperwork or declaring him AWOL. So he took his trusted lieutenant with him, happy that he had a reason to at least keep one person within his line of sight so he could do everything to make sure they were fine, and went to Resembool. Since Al had been Ed's reason to stay in the military he also took resignation papers with him, hoping they wouldn't need to be filled out though. If Ed left the military it meant ties to Roy would be cut because they simply weren't close enough for Roy to try and help the boy without the state forcing them to interact with one another. Mustang could only hope that Ed would be willing to go on and try to get his arm and leg back in remembrance of Al.

But Ed wasn't willing. Roy was presented with the same lifeless boy he had carried out of the basement. The colonel took one look at him, at the Rockbell women being so soft and tender towards the boy and refused to mellow his behaviour. Soft and tender didn't seem to get a reaction from Fullmetal and Roy had never been good at acting like that anyway, so he tried to be his usual self. His usual self irritated Ed and if he had to agitate the boy for a reaction so be it. It didn't work though. No fire in Edward's eyes. But plenty of material that would burn if only it could be lit somehow. Roy felt as useless as Fullmetal liked to call him. It was frustrating.

In the end he had to let Ed leave the military.

But then, some time later, he had the perfect reason to get in contact with Fullmetal again, see if maybe those golden eyes contained a new fire. Well, the reason was not _perfect_ , it was an array used for murder after all, but still. First he had wanted to simply send it like any other military document: without any personal touch. But he couldn't bring himself to do that. The colonel was aware that the transmutation circle was close to human transmutation, he had dabbed into that field himself and could see the signs, so he wanted to tell the boy not to get any stupid ideas from it. But what if only him mentioning doing something stupid would make Fullmetal think about it? So Roy settled to hoping that the care of the Rockbells would be enough to keep Ed safe from that idea. Still, how to write a letter to Fullmetal?

He couldn't decide on an opening so he left it aside to be thought about later. Then he chewed on his pen for a while, clueless. In the end he chose to write the way he would talk to the younger alchemist; facts and bits of sarcasm and humour. It was surprisingly easy once he started. When he finished he realised his office was suspiciously quiet, no chattering between his trusted but honestly not very normal subordinates. He looked up to see them staring at him like he was doing something really fascinating.

"What?" he asked.

"Well, you look awfully interested in that paper you're working on, it's a new sight considering how you normally do paperwork, sir" Hawkeye finally explained.

"Is it maybe the form for the new dress code for the female officers?" Havoc asked hopefully, receiving a glare from the Hawk's Eye and grinning sheepishly as an apology.

Roy pondered it for a moment then admitted, "I'm writing a short note to put in with the array to send to Fullme-... Edward Elric. Anyone something they want to tell him?"

And they all at the same time started to tell, yelling to be heard over the others when they realised that Roy couldn't make out a single sentence in the mix of voices. Roy chuckled at the kindergarten he sometimes had for a platoon and gathered their concern in one sentence: They wished Edward the best. He added what he wished for the former Fullmetal after a moment of being thoughtful as well and smirked widely while adding the signature that would most likely confuse the boy a bit. Colonel Bastard indeed.

When they received an answer, short as it may be, it made them all happy. He chose to tell the boy that. Not long after that Ed slipped into his office. And Roy gladly returned the title and the watch he never had cleared out of his desk in hopes for the miracle of a spark despite everything. He was pretty sure the higher ups wouldn't mind that there hadn't been a re-evaluation. And they didn't. The Führer was quite happy Fullmetal was back in their ranks.

"He's different," Havoc had said when Ed had left after signing his contract again.

"Somehow lifeless," Fuery agreed sadly.

"Well, he did lose everything," Falman said, not to remind them but to express sympathy.

"Then we gotta help him find something new, huh?" Breda announced.

"He won't need something new, there's still enough there that he just doesn't see yet," Hawkeye told them with a small smile.

And they all expectantly looked at Roy, as he leaned in the doorway to his private office, thoughtfully and still progressing the Edward he had just seen.

"Hawkeye's right," he then said. "There's a spark in him and we will help it grow into a fire again, because we are still here. The boy's our comrade, no matter how much younger, bratty and all together different he is."

"So we'll do what Amestrian soldiers do when one is lost?" Havoc asked.

Roy nodded. "Soft and tender and misery's company didn't work with the Rockbells so it won't work with us either." He stepped out of the doorway and stood before them, every inch the colonel, listing what most of them had learned the hard way. "We won't pity him, we won't stop marching on to fuss over him and most of all we will show we're sad but not enough to drag him down again. We will carry on and make him do so too."

"Yes, sir!" they answered in one grim salute. And he knew he could count on his team to help out the best they could.

The same day proved a new task though when he found Fullmetal sleeping on a bench outside of the command building. Well, maybe the young alchemist was just tired from the train ride and making the decision of coming back. He didn't think anything of it then. Roy just gathered the boy up in his arms, asked Hawkeye to take the suitcase and marched him to the car. During the ride he pondered the strange instinct that had made him do so instead of just waking the pale boy up. While booking Fullmetal a dorm room he came to the conclusion that probably he just didn't want to spoil how... content he felt with Fullmetal back here where he could try to do something about the boy's state by waking him and having to deal with the typical I-don't-need-your-help-attitude the boy was so prone to.

Because of that attitude he tried to be subtle and express his concern with notes at first when Fullmetal decided that sleeping on that bench should be a regular occurrence. It didn't help though and also Fullmetal seemed to lose weight, something Roy couldn't understand because everyday in the mess hall he saw the blond eat his usual (bigger than) normal portion of food. So if nothing was wrong with Fullmetal's eating habits, then what was making him lose weight?

And that's why when he finally took the boy in Roy Mustang turned into someone who ate proper breakfast every day. He knew how to cook good breakfast, had often done so for his 'sisters' at Madame Christmas' house when he was younger so when they had to wake up after working late into the night they were at least greeted with a fine meal, and he knew that if he ate it would put a bit of pressure on Fullmetal to eat a proper portion as well. Also eating in company was said to make you happier. And really, the boy started to get back to a more healthy body weight soon while staying with Roy. The colonel refused to acknowledge that he himself gained a few pounds too, until he was back to the weight he had before Maes died.

Roy could never really explain just why he had taken the boy in though. Maybe it had to do with him not being willing to analyse some of his own emotional troubles too much that he couldn't explain his behaviour. Sure, he wanted to help the boy, but he was also aware that as his commanding officer he should only care to a certain degree. So the reason why he felt absolutely right to overstep these boundaries and take the boy home (putting up with stupid rumours without caring much for them except for a small rush of anger) was probably rooted somewhere deeply in his far too loyal and annoyingly caring personality for him to care and find out. He sometimes really hated these traits of his character because it would be so much easier if he just didn't care. It would save him a lot of pain. But then he knew he'd turn into those he was trying to get past and kick off the throne so he could turn this country around if it wasn't for him being him, so he put up with it to the best he could. He made an effort to control his facial expressions and body language and never openly showed more of his caring side than needed to be considered normal, to protect those he cared about from being taken as hostage and because it made it easier to ignore the stinging pain in his heart if one of them got hurt.

Yet seeing the boy, who had stubbornly kept it all in and not uttered a single word when Roy confronted him in the office, finally break down in his car and stutter his explanation of why he hated the dorm room too much to sleep there and admit that he felt alone, gripping tight onto a damn _umbrella_ while doing so because there was no person left for him to cling to except two women who were far away from Central, pierced right through the shield of professionalism he was initially set on keeping up despite wanting to help.

"Where will you take him?" Hawkeye had asked when he had told Ed to get his things.

"Depends," Roy had mumbled.

"On what?"

"On if he misses Hughes too much too."

She smiled a bit and said, "You can do it," and kept silent then. He smiled too, equally shortly and only a small smile, but he smiled nonetheless because she encouraged him that he could really manage looking after a depressed house guest because she understood that he tried to think about another place to bring the boy to, but all the places he came up with on the spot were tainted as well. Fullmetal confirmed that when Roy listed them anyway, just to make sure there was no other way than him risking to screw up and make the boy even worse.

Because Roy had never learned to comfort people more than what his awkward instincts told him to do. No matter how confident and often downright manipulating he usually was when dealing with others, situations like that were not his field. He had grown up without parents to look after him so he didn't know what would soothe a child or encourage it to start over. And Fullmetal _was_ a child no matter what the two alchemists liked to convince themselves of. All Roy knew was the way Madam Christmas had brought him up, never uncaring or without love but not typical parental either. She worked with teasing, making him want to show the world what he could be just to spite everyone who thought the boy who grew up in that questionable bar would end up as a pimp.

Unfortunately, where Fullmetal usually responded well to that teasing method, he now needed something else. There was no Hughes for Roy to ask for help and what he had seen of the man's parenting skills before his death didn't really help him either now because Elysia was a happy child.

It also didn't help that Roy lived most of his life in the professional environment of the military, never having a reason to acquire comforting skills because it was simply unnecessary there since people went home or to friends to be comforted, not to their commanding officer.

So now he just did what this strange new instinct told him, hoping his gut feeling was right.

His instincts had to go through their first hard test when Havoc left that picture of a corpse on Fullmetal's desk by accident. Roy was sure the boy didn't want to hurt anyone, but he could see that he wasn't himself, wasn't _there_ at that moment. He knew that dangerous state of mind, he had been in it himself, had lost his head in Ishbal and simply snapped at everything moving because he couldn't take the killing in a conscious state any more. But then he had almost hit his own people and so he had forced himself to endure it with an alert mind after all. His pistol had looked very good after all of this.

Anyway, he had handled the situation with Ed okay then, he thought. Unlike the day when he encountered that state of mind again when he came home to find Fullmetal was trying to activate a human transmutation circle, _his_ human transmutation circle, on the living room floor. After pulling the boy away from the array, suffering injury as consequence for giving in into panic and getting the boy back to a somewhat clear mind after that, he had felt a hell of a lot guilty and stupid and shaken because he didn't know what to do then. Fullmetal looked so scared and shocked, Roy had made sure not to move too suddenly or come too close to him and set him off again. He was sure the boy was afraid of him, waiting for Roy to leash out and punish him for trying to commit this crime and injuring him in the end. And as much as Roy wanted to slap some sense into him, he couldn't hit the boy for trying to do something he had been very close to doing himself after Ishbal or when Maes died. Roy could understand the desire to bring back the dead too well for that.

So after washing the blood away, fixing up his arm and changing out of the ruined set of uniform (all the way beating himself up about being so stupid and assume ever curious Fullmetal wouldn't care to look at an alchemy beginner's book and therefore not removing it from its place on the book shelf where he could always see it while sitting on the couch, a silent reminder of his own failures) he went back into the living room to look after his charge and found Fullmetal had cried himself to sleep. Deciding that for now the boy needed the rest more than his awkward attempts at comforting he let him sleep.

The next day he made sure to give Fullmetal space, hoping he would understand this way that there was no reason to think Roy would do him harm and seek retribution for the injury on his arm. Hawkeye had dragged him to the infirmary because of it and he had reluctantly told her what happened.

"Do you think I should bring him somewhere else after all?" he had asked, doubting he was able to keep the boy safe anymore.

"If you do that while telling him you aren't angry then he would think you're lying and beat himself up anyway," she had said.

"Better he thinks I'm a liar than him ending up doing this again."

"But then if you're a liar, how can he trust that you're trying to help him?"

"So I'll just try again, huh? Like always."

"Like always. We're not allowed to give up."

"No rest for those who killed." He whispered that too quietly for her too hear so she wouldn't be upset. When they came back to the office Fullmetal was gone and Roy ended up giving him a slap after all once he had chased him down again. He hadn't been able to take that he had just brought up the energy and resolved to start again and then Fullmetal vanished, leaving Roy to fear the worst.

It turned out giving the boy space had been exactly the wrong move. He found out later as he told Edward he wasn't afraid of him and to show it wrapped the injured arm around the boy who was clinging to his shirt. Roy didn't think he was the best for Fullmetal to cling to, especially after he just misjudged the situation so totally, but he was at least better than an umbrella so he allowed Edward to grab on to him tightly, though telling the boy his comforting skills weren't that well developed. He didn't want Edward to put too much faith into him and be disappointed because Roy couldn't live up to what he expected of a caring adult. Ed didn't seem to mind though and surprised Roy by requesting only one simple thing; that Roy wouldn't push him away.

The colonel wasn't used to people putting up with his flaws, only very few did so and these were the few he cared about and trusted as well. He explained it to himself with equivalent exchange because he put up with their flaws as well. Everyone else was either his enemy or political concurrence and would take advantage of him not being good at something, just like he did in turn to climb the ladder to the top faster. Who wasn't enemy or friend usually was a higher up who didn't put up with him either and instead expected him to change and do better to their benefit. Hell, Roy himself didn't really put up with himself, always trying to do better and get into the Führer's seat to make up for what he did wrong. So when Edward put up with his awkward way of comforting just like that instead of demanding he go learn and do better the next time he couldn't help but feel happy even though he should be focused because Ed was the one who needed to be cheered up. So he reigned in his happiness, locked the feeling away for bad days, and instead settled on making sure the boy knew that Roy didn't think he was dangerous and trusted him not to do that transmutation again. When he put the now sleepy boy to bed though he couldn't help but give into the urge he knew was parental, because he had heard Maes chuckle the same way while tucking in Elysia, and wished Edward a good night with all the warmth he had to offer in his tentative way.

The night wasn't good at all, however. He woke up from the sound of water permanently running and found Ed in the shower, distressed and slightly out of it from a nightmare. This at least he more or less knew how to deal with, having sat in that same tub quite a few times, frantically trying to wash off sand saturated with ashes and blood. He hated offering personal information because it made him vulnerable so he kept it to a minimum but let show that he knew what he was talking about so Fullmetal couldn't yell, "You don't know anything!" and refuse to accept his help in getting over this nightmare. And really, Edward told him what bothered him and Roy pulled him out of the swamp, telling him what of that dream was real and what wasn't without being cold towards the boy though or making him feel stupid for having that nightmare. You couldn't help your dreams after all.

When Edward asked him why the transmutation circle for human transmutation had been there in his book he hesitated, but then told his reason anyway. Maybe if Edward knew that others were stupid and dabbed into these forbidden fields as well then the boy wouldn't feel so horrible about himself anymore and brighten up a little again, not feeling that lonely anymore. Roy felt like he had accomplished something as he finally saw a spark of that Elric-determination again when the boy told him he'd stop the colonel should he ever stumble on his path again. The cruel and unfair world had looked a bit better then.

The next day it punished them for thinking that by letting Fullmetal stumble upon a fresh crime scene.

Telling himself to count to ten, telling Fullmetal to count to ten, making sure none of them panicked because if that happened then everything would crumble for the shaken young alchemist he just placed in the back of a car again. Having to put duty over personal matters at that moment felt horrible but he could see the boy had understood it was necessary at least for a few seconds. Had the boy been any worse Roy would have taken him back to the apartment anyway, but it seemed like focusing on waiting until there was time for his breakdown (he hated how that sounded, like Ed was insignificant, unimportant to them all) seemed to help the boy with staying sane so he allowed for the investigation and case-meeting to go first.

"How is he?" his subordinates had asked when he took the coffee and tea from the ever considerate Hawkeye, smiling his thanks for her thinking ahead.

"I think he'll be better soon," he'd told them and walked back into his private office, sitting down next to Fullmetal.

And then he watched Edward break down without actually looking at it, giving the boy as much privacy to cry and mourn as he could while simultaneously being there for him and making sure he got it all out of his system without interruption. Though he still wasn't sure how to, he would only start actively comforting the boy when the usually so proud alchemist would let slip a sign that it was okay, not before when it would just be seen as meaningless act of pity to shut up the annoying kid's crying.

He was surprised when Ed actually leaned against his side with his full weight, but chose to wonder about that later. Roy hadn't been held with real care often, most physical contact he had was either meaningless sex with a woman that wasn't an informant of his or he got hit in a fight, but he still knew that people could feel when you held them while your mind was elsewhere. And it made them feel unimportant despite the closeness of their bodies. So he didn't think about anything at all and just focused on holding the boy until they both fell asleep, exhausted from all that was going on lately and the strain of, in Ed's case, crying and in Roy's comforting more then he was used to.

He decided to cook himself when they went back to the apartment that day, feeling Fullmetal could use a bit of a homey atmosphere and the feeling of safety associated with it. Also cooking gave him something to do so he wouldn't look all fidgety and insecure while trying to make sure Ed felt better, something Roy didn't really like to do because he simply wasn't one for asking about such things. He'd say he was more the type for action instead of words but then he guessed he sucked at actions too most of the time and so he just settled to thinking he was hopelessly awkward anyway so might as well try talking. Surprisingly, once the question was out of his mouth it wasn't that hard to speak with Ed. Until Ed asked,"You said partly. What's the other reason?"

He inwardly cursed his slip up and tried to find an answer to that. Why did he help Ed apart from his own selfish reasons? He did know why, but he was always wary of allowing people to know their true value for him. If they found out about their value in his plan for making Führer, fine, he couldn't care less, he'd manage to manipulate them into doing what he needed them to do anyway somehow, or, like his subordinates, they trusted him and followed his command still and in turn he'd make sure to never disappoint that trust and keep them as safe as he could while moving them as they were needed. But allowing them to know he'd try to keep them safe in exchange for trust and dedication to the cause was a whole other thing than letting them know if he actually cared when they got hurt after all. That would be letting them know their true value, the value they held in his heart's view.

But if there was one thing that he knew it was that Edward wouldn't try to use that information. After all, he decided to tell. The boy put up with Roy and the boy was concerned he was a burden to Roy. He should know he wasn't. He should know there was someone who cared about him. So Roy showed just how good he was at saying a simple thing in the most complicated way.

"I'm not sure, but I guess you little brat somehow managed to become quite dear to me."

"I'm not sure either, but the same might go for you, stupid bastard," was Ed's answer and the colonel felt relieved and happy. He smiled to himself. He had made a new friend, something he didn't think he'd do again for quite some time because the closer he got to the top the higher the chance that whoever he befriended might turn out to be anything but a friend. His trust was in those he started the journey with. But as in many things Fullmetal was an exception and he had managed to get on the list of people Roy would care for with everything he had, anyway.

And so he didn't mind assuring the boy that he could stay as long as he wanted to, to consider this apartment his home too. Actually it was a rather easy step for him to take. He'd learned to share a home with and welcome people who weren't actual family when his foster mother took in his 'sisters' seemingly randomly, he didn't see it as a burden or lost privacy. As long as the privacy of his bedroom was respected he couldn't care less about the other rooms and as long as Fullmetal did his small part in the household he wasn't a burden either. Ed seemed so happy about it he even hugged Roy, shocking the colonel into choking on his food.

Yet during the last few years he'd gotten used to living alone again so Roy kept spacing out a few times in the beginning, the current murder case heavy on his mind. He explained it to Fullmetal so the younger alchemist knew he didn't mean to ignore him. They settled to playing a game every other evening or discuss alchemy, sometimes other topics and soon Roy was used to the other's presence. And he still didn't mind it at all. It was nerve-racking and taxing sometimes because as Fullmetal got better he also got more energetic and mischievous but they had enough quiet moments in between that it didn't really annoy him and he just enjoyed the challenges thrown his way. It made life more interesting.

So life went on and things seemed to get better, they closed in on the killer and Fullmetal seemed to be his old self again. Roy felt joy whenever he watched the boy laugh or banter with his subordinates, or when he bantered with and talked to Fullmetal himself, even when Ed did something like hide the milk away, something the timid shadow of a boy he had taken in that day would have never dared to do, afraid Roy would throw him out and leave him alone again every moment. He never even seemed to have enough life within him to even come up with that idea. Now though golden eyes burned bright like the sun again and Roy felt content, almost ecstatic, that he had succeeded in helping the boy stand back up again. He still hadn't heard a proper short-rant from Fullmetal but he was optimistic he'd manage to get one out of the boy before the small alchemist hit a growth spurt. Meaning he'd probably have forever to try. He chuckled to himself at the thought. Maybe this line would make Ed rant again? He'd try it sometime.

He never got to try though because that same evening Ed went back to being a seemingly soulless body again, doing nothing but sitting and staring, brilliant soul and mind drowned in sorrow. Roy didn't even get what triggered it, he was barely on his feet and keeled over once that blasted homunculus finally died. He usually hated killing but in that moment he really only wanted its life to end, he knew that if he stopped before it was dead then his subordinates would be the ones to die instead. Once sure the creature was gone for good, his hazy mind filed away the information of its core being a red stone and then it shut down.

When he came round again he was in the hospital, receiving the bad news about Ed from a very worried Hawkeye. It took a while until Fullmetal was allowed to visit and seeing all the new fire they'd so carefully cultivated had left the boys eyes again hurt more than his stab wound. It was so unfair, so damn unfair! Roy beat himself up for having taken the boy along on their hunt and that same ugly, vengeful demon that was locked away at the bottom of his soul and twitched whenever he thought about Maes killer raised its head and wanted to sink its fangs into whatever or whoever had caused Ed's new hollow eyes and tear the culprit apart.

He shoved it down and hid it away like always. If he thought about things like that while Ed was snuggled up to his uninjured side, after throwing a fit until they allowed for him to stay, the boy might catch on to the tenseness the anger caused in his body and think it was directed at him. So even though the fit Ed had thrown had really scared Roy for a moment because so much responsibility fell on him with being the one Ed latched onto, the colonel forced himself to be optimistic. He was a military officer, he was used to taking responsibility he told himself.

Ed basically acted like a doll when Roy took him home the next day. He knew he left the hospital too early but he was on medical leave anyway at the moment and he didn't see any difference between sitting at home or sitting in the hospital to heal that damn wound so he didn't care and left because he knew Fullmetal hated hospitals.

The younger alchemist had developed the oddest sleeping-... well it couldn't be called pattern when he just dropped off randomly every few hours. So Roy didn't get much sleep while looking after him, trying to always be awake when the boy seemed to slip into a nightmare. Gracia told him Fullmetal did that often. Though while staying with him Ed was peaceful nearly all the time. Roy still didn't want to take the risk and stayed up to talk the boy through the few nightmares he really had. When the blond was awake Roy tried to make him eat and drink something. Thankfully the boy went for the bathroom on his own though, if he ever had to go with what little he took in.

His subordinates called once a day, sitting together around the phone in the office and telling him what was going on in the world so he wouldn't be out of it when he had to come back to work. They also asked for Fullmetal and he kept them updated, soaking in every encouraging or helpful thing they could say concerning taking care of the boy.

After a week though Roy knew he couldn't keep up that 24/7 care anyway. But he was sure Ed needed it to get going again. He needed the Rockbells to give the boy that first spark again. The colonel called his trusted lieutenant, telling her he'd be back on active duty within the next two days, his first task being to officially escort Fullmetal for rehabilitation in Resembool. She wasn't happy about him pushing himself and she was upset about Edward's state of mind, but she promised to look after him for a day so Roy could catch some sleep before they went on the train. He got his sleep, interrupted by Ed waking him just before falling asleep on the colonel's bed, and then they were off on their way to Ed's small home town.

Fullmetal had seemed reluctant at first to leave the apartment but the train ride seemed to make him happy enough to not want to leave the train either, hesitating at the station. Roy took him by the hand to coax him on the way to the Rockbell house. His lieutenant seemed set on not letting him carry the boy, though Fullmetal really didn't weigh that much these days despite the automail, having lost weight again recently.

Roy had been right about the Rockbells being able to help, though it was a totally different way from what he had initially thought. Pinako told him what he really wouldn't have realised in another way, because while he had understood that he was important to Fullmetal in Central, he was still sure that the boy wouldn't need him with the Rockbells around. Because while Roy had been set on helping Ed because he wanted to, he had always thought the rather proud Fullmetal had only accepted Roy's help and allowed them to grow a relationship that held much more fondness than ever before for the simple reason that no one else was there. Everything there was in that relationship had been build away from Resembool, never had there been any indication that he'd been woven into the web of people Edward trusted and needed, not just added somewhere at the outside with a few sloppy stitches. So he assumed the relationship would be unnecessary and crumble when away from Central and out here in Edward's small home town. He assumed that here he was just Fullmetal's commanding officer again, supposed to go back to Central as fast as possible so he wouldn't bring the damn military close to this place, and wait in the capital until Edward needed him again. He was stunned when he found out, or rather was flat out told by a annoyed Pinako, that his value for Fullmetal wasn't only his status as the only close person the boy had in Central. Stunned, but strangely happy and proud.

And it seemed the boy had taken a liking to his cooking, or that was what he initially thought until he caught on to what the request for pasta was about. His first reaction when Fullmetal told him the secret of the stone was denial. Though the younger alchemist seemed quite sure that Kimbley had spoken the truth. He also seemed to be quite sure that he was a murderer, something that made Roy's temper boil over when Ed wouldn't understand that this just wasn't true.

Outwardly the colonel might have laughed at Edward saying he'd never kill, call it a ridiculous concept and moral that Fullmetal wouldn't be able to hold up in the service of the military. But only so the boy wouldn't be as down when it really wouldn't work out as he'd be had he been encouraged in the thought. Because if someone like Roy, having been in the military much longer and being an authoritative figure would tell the boy he was proud on his resolve and supported it, then Ed might think it was realistically and that none of the missions handed to him would ever lead to a situation that might lead to him killing because Roy who supported him wouldn't let that happen. And true, Roy did his best to give him the least dangerous mission, but he only had so much choice and influence into what requests came from the higher ups.

So when Ed beat himself up for being a murderer without reason and wouldn't listen to the point Roy had, the colonel snapped. Simply because he couldn't watch that brilliant boy destroy himself, not when they had gone through so much. Not after all the fight they had put up to get the boy back on his feet. Not when he knew that Edward had come to depend on him to be there and help him set things right again. He refused to let the boy down and his frustration about Fullmetal just not listening to reason turned into anger about him not being able to get said reason through to that thick, blond covered skull and so in a split second he decided that if he had to show the kid what a real murderer was, what _he_ was, then so be it. He might scare him away and lose Fullmetal's trust with revealing that face of his, but if it accomplished something then he'd see it as a necessary sacrifice and try to regain that trust later on.

He wasn't proud of that rash decision, or shoving the boy against the wall like that, but he couldn't find it in himself to be sorry for it either because it did work. It wasn't the nicest or optimal way but he had saved Edward's fire and in the long run that was important. They would get over being, in Edward's case shocked, in his case disgusted with himself and the number of lives he'd taken, in a while and then they would go back to being their usual, as happy as guilty souls could be, selves.

He sat under the tree next to the Rockbell house while thinking about all of this, about all what happened, what was his fault and what wasn't, absent-mindedly tapping his pistol against his head so he wouldn't dare waver in his resolve. Roy Mustang was not allowed to give up. He had goals and on these he needed to focus because otherwise he wasn't worth the safety on his gun. Where he'd simply been a coward in the beginning he now had made a deal with himself and every person he'd killed. He'd atone for his sins to the best he could and return the favour to all those who trusted him by reaching the top and making their lives better as well, in exchange for his life and maybe finding a bit of happiness every once in a while. That simple.

He explained the shorter version of that complicated vow to himself when Fullmetal surprised him by coming out to search for him and actually admitted that Roy's little habit with the gun had scared him.

And it was then, when they sat there under the tree and made up again, that he knew the momentary hurt and confusion his little outburst had brought about them had been totally worth it. That everything had been worth it, every last bit of stress and fear and confusion and awkwardness and whatnot they had to go through, even the faint scar he carried on his right arm now from Ed's automail sword and the bruise his left arm would develop from the hard punch he'd just received, everything was worth sitting here, trusting the other and calmly talking, bantering a bit, being optimistic for a while. The strange relationship he'd built with Fullmetal, somewhere in the mysterious, nameless middle of the Bermuda triangle made up of friends, family and co-workers was worth all the pride they had to lose when admitting weaknesses to one another to understand what they were thinking, all the insecurities and differences they had to overcome, and every other strain on his nerves and personality he couldn't think of right now.

Yes, it was worth it.

Simply because it made them both happy and helped them go on in their life, despite everything.

So even while he very sheepishly apologised to the Rockbells for leaving the food on the stove, the sauce still on full heat, risking fire and/or damage in their kitchen, or while he had to listen to his lieutenant lecturing him about running out into the rain without a jacket or coat, risking getting ill despite still having an injury that needed to heal, he felt utterly content and couldn't really stop grinning.

* * *


	27. Thoughts About Fairness

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm sorry, I know this isn't one of my best chapters. But it is the best I can do at the moment because I want to keep writing on it so the story won't just die, so please put up with this or utter some constructive critique that might help my muse rise from its grave.

 

Ed raised an eyebrow when the colonel barely did more than pull off his boots and military jacket, detach the cavalry skirt as well as his belt from his pants and strip his button down shirt, leaving him in a white undershirt and his blue pants, before dropping onto the bed.

"Didn't bring sleepwear, wasn't supposed to sleep tonight, was planning an all-nighter under Hawkeye's watch to catch up with the rest of my paperwork," the older alchemist mumbled as an explanation into his pillow when he realised Ed's amused staring. Then he smirked. "Heh, but now I got out of it! Good thing Mrs. Rockbell wouldn't leave us in the same room and Hawkeye doesn't want to linger around in the living room or something."

Unlike the last time when Ed had left Resembool they would only have to wait for eleven o'clock the next day for a train to Central. The colonel and his lieutenant had been planning to just stay at the local inn for the night but the Rockbells invited them to stay over. The two soldiers didn't need much, they even offered to share a room (Hawkeye answered Pinako's raised eyebrows with a pat to the gun on her hip which had Mustang sweat-drop) but the Rockbell house had enough space anyway, especially since for the moment no automail patient was around. So Hawkeye got her own room and Mustang would simply stay with Ed in the multi-bed room he once used to share with Al.

"You do know that she will make you do the paperwork anyway somehow sometime?" the younger alchemist asked.

"Yes, but I don't care, I get to sleep now!" the older answered contently.

Ed watched as the colonel threw a triumphant and hate-filled gaze at the briefcase, bulging full with papers, that stood next to his discarded boots and then got comfortable. Despite the rest he had gotten before they went on the train there were still some shadows left under his eyes and he was slightly paler than his usual light but healthy skin.

Ed hung his head a bit. "Sorry... about keeping you awake so long." He remembered Mustang had only trice been asleep when Ed woke up from dropping off randomly and even so he hadn't complained when Ed woke him up simply because he wanted to hear a reassuring voice say something to keep him grounded and help him find out how to get better.

"Nah, don't think about it, I've gone longer with less sleep." Mustang waved him off with a small smile that translated in 'You're welcome'. "Just shut up so I can sleep _now_ and we're even," he added in a good natured grumble and a yawn when Ed opened his mouth to apologise again still.

The boy grinned a bit. "Thanks Mustang... goodnight."

"Goodnight Edward." He once again didn't say 'You're Welcome' aloud but Ed knew anyway when Mustang called him by his name instead of title, reminding him the colonel cared for more than the fame the Fullmetal Alchemist could bring. He cared for the boy beneath.

So Edward smiled, snuggled into his bed and tried to fall asleep. But as so often things he'd pushed away earlier caught up to him now when there was no distraction and his mind let the day pass revue. And he didn't really know what to think about it. Because on one side he felt rather happy, but on the other he was quite sad and felt guilty.

He was happy because the burden of being a murderer had been lifted from his shoulders, because even if the fake stone had contained souls, he hadn't murdered them, it was an accident. He was happy because of the nice evening they had had after they had run back to the house to save the food Pinako had luckily already taken care of.

Colonel Mustang had met the raised eyebrow of granny Pinako with a very sheepish apology because while he had turned down the heat for the noodles, he forgot about the sauce, risking an accident in her kitchen. Ed might have been amused about watching the man who was usually quite confident with women squirm and try not to look incompetent and childish, but he was busy cowering from Winry who had pulled out a wrench and lectured him about being stupid for keeping to himself and not asking them for help, now that she knew he would listen and react to her. He was happy that while he had upset her with that he at least hadn't made her cry. And of course once Winry was done with him he still got to watch Hawkeye take over Pinako's position and give Mustang a full lecture about stomping out into the rain without a jacket, risking a cold or worse when he was still recovering from injury. That had been fun too, even if he felt slightly bad because he had been the one to upset the colonel enough to leave the house.

So in that moment Ed had felt happy. He felt optimistic and for the moment everything seemed like it was all right again. Sure there still was this ache in his heart that wished Al was there to laugh with him when Mustang howled, "I know Hawkeye, I know and I won't do it again, would you please stop now!" to finally shut his lieutenant up, but the hurt didn't seem to swallow him up any more. When they all sat down to finally eat their dinner it couldn't have been more perfect even if the noodles were a bit too mellow and the sauce had an ever so slightly burned taste to it.

Sure, Ed had seen that the two soldiers and the two civilians were still a bit awkward with one another at the beginning. Especially Mustang didn't seem sure about how welcome he was at the table since he had never made a very positive impression on the Rockbells when he showed up in Resembool, though Winry thawed Hawkeye pretty fast and a light conversation started so they got over it soon. Pinako jokingly asked the lieutenant in reference to the forgotten food if Mustang always was such a useless scatterbrain and soon Hawkeye was telling some stories from the office, the colonel piping up every now and then to either defend himself or add some funny detail. Once he even dared to tell a story where Hawkeye was the one doing something stupid, something Ed hadn't thought possible but obviously had happened once. It earned Mustang a glare and a commend about uselessness that made him cringe but then they were laughing anyway. And then Winry told a funny story about some customer of the automail shop, leading to her ranting about Ed always damaging his automail.

But Ed hadn't minded her ranting. He had been too fascinated with the feeling of sitting there at the table and eating dinner between people who he all liked. (He only included Mustang in 'people he liked' because he still hadn't managed to invent a unique word that would describe his positive view of the colonel; just saying he _liked_ Colonel _Bastard_ still was like saying 'I am short', no matter how strong a bond they shared) It was a feeling he wasn't used to. Sure he had experienced it a few times, when he was young and his mum and dad were still there or when he and Al ate with the Rockbells or when they were with their teacher and even at the Hughes' place. But still, he had never gotten used to it, had always seen it as something special. It was a feeling of safety, like everything was all right, like he was complete.

He knew other people would laugh at him for revelling in this situation so much, but then others wouldn't understand. Here was where a tinge of sadness accompanied the moment. Sadness about how Edward felt this was something special, that he couldn't take it for granted like everyone else who ate dinner with their family. Sadness, that ever since his father left and things went downhill he only ever had this patched up dinners with a mix of people he had come to think of as important, yet who sometimes didn't even really know each other but were only there because he dragged them into his mess. And whenever he lost one of those people as well the company at the table became even more conglomerate, because he just couldn't learn and would proceed to get close to more people who would then be caught up in his problems. Of course, now that he knew them he wouldn't want to have missed getting to know a single one of them but was that really worth all the shit that had happened to him, all the shit that happened to these people because of him? He had sometimes wondered where the equivalent exchange for all his bad luck was. Well, maybe it was this: Becoming friends with all these wonderful people he had met on his journey and still would meet. But even though it was an exchange, was it a fair one? Was equivalent exchange really always fair?

"Come on Fullmetal, eat your food! If you keep up like this you'll lose enough weight that the Lieutenant will allow me to carry you after all," Mustang had said then, nudging Ed none to gently with his elbow to get him out of his thoughts.

And Ed had grinned, and decided to push the thoughts away then so they would not ruin the rare 'family' dinner even if they plagued him later on and stole some sleep.

"She really has you on a tight leash, huh? Makes you wonder who is really the commanding officer," he had mocked the colonel.

Mustang had huffed. "She doesn't have me on a tight leash, I just do what she says because I trust her to keep me on the right track when I can't watch out myself because I have my hands full with other stuff!"

"Scatterbrain!" Ed had laughed, picking up what Pinako had said earlier and soon all gloomy thoughts were forgotten in a hearty bantering contest.

And when no one looked, not even Mustang himself, Ed had smiled softly at the colonel. The older man had this slight grin on his lips and twinkling in his eyes all evening, not even the best placed comment about him and water could wash it away. Edward knew what it was, it was the same reason that had him smiling now: The whole equivalent exchange, losing his father, mother, brother and others, hadn't been fair. But one small part, all the struggle he had gone through with Mustang, all the loss of pride and work on building awkward bridges that grew stronger with familiarity and vanishing angst, all the problems with getting to know the other enough to totally trust him and not be afraid to seek his comfort, all of that part was totally worth what he had now. Mustang was still annoying as hell from time to time, but Ed wondered just why he had taken so long to see that given a chance the colonel could be so much more than just a boss. He was happy he found out now though, because he was quite sure he'd have lived the rest of his life as an empty shell if it wasn't for one stubborn Flame Alchemist lighting a fire under his ass so he would move on.

So even if it wasn't fair that the other person sleeping and breathing calmly in this room wasn't Al in his flesh body, he would never wish Mustang away. Even if it wasn't fair that the people who had shared the dinner table with him weren't his mother, father and brother, he would never wish them away. It was confusing. It brought up the question if he had been willing to exchange another life for Al's. But then, he suddenly realised, the answer was easy: Yes, he would have been willing to exchange another life for Al's, but only one. His own. Not the others'. Never them, it wasn't their fault he had done what he did that night. They only ever tried to help, no matter what motive had been the start for making them do so.

But then was it fair of him to accept that help? He had blindly searched for it since Al died, especially during the last few days, but then he had never asked himself this: Was it fair to ask them to care for him, get into trouble for him, when his problems were his own fault? When he had refused to accept help before Al was gone it had mostly been out of stubbornness, out of the need to be taken as fully capable of everything so people would allow him to run around and search for the Philosopher's Stone, allow him to take the military's funding and things. He had only ever taken the help he could justify with some equivalent exchange or when there was no other way to get closer to getting Al's body back. But now those reasons didn't exist anymore so he had searched out help, was still searching out help. And help on personal matters that is, help that helped no one but himself. Was it fair of him to do so, though?

He looked over at Mustang who was sleeping as peaceful as a guilty soul could, moonlight from the window the only source of light illuminating his features. Maybe he should ask the colonel this question tomorrow. He would probably have an answer, the smug bastard. After all he was the closest thing to a wise old man Ed knew. So Ed sighed and with his mind somewhat calmed by the prospect of maybe getting an answer tomorrow fell asleep.

* * *

Edward woke up slowly, stretched and yawned and rubbed his eyes before blinking them open. He then turned to wish Mustang a good morning, already grinning at the thought of a asking a grumpy, dishevelled colonel who'd just woke up philosophical questions because that surely would make Mustang look at him stupidly. But Mustang wasn't in his bed.

Ed frowned. The colonel had been quite tired, so why was he awake before Ed? And why was everything of his, even the briefcase full of paperwork, missing? Ed's eyes widened. It was bright outside, how long did he sleep, what time was it?

Did Mustang leave Resembool without him after all?

He scrambled for his pocket watch to check the time, surely Pinako and Winry would have woken him already if it was this late, right? Right? A piece of paper fluttered to the ground when he snatched the watch. For a moment he stared at it, his brain taking a while to get out of its panic stupor and act on that new clue. Then he picked up the note.

> _Since I'm not in the room and left a note I'm obviously not around._

No, NO! Mustang _did_ leave! How could he do that when only yesterday they had talked about Ed taking on new missions? He was better again, wasn't he? Mustang could make use of him again, couldn't he? So why did he leave?

Ed took a deep breath, reminding himself he knew better than to assume he'd been abandoned after just one sentence that sounded a bit like that. He remembered Mustang laughing when he had assumed he'd be kicked out after that short conversation of the colonel with their neighbour. So he forced himself to read on.

 

> _To be precise I'm taking a short walk. That means Hawkeye might be a bit unhappy about me waking up early and not using the time for paperwork. Usually that wouldn't be dangerous for you because a) she couldn't mistake someone so much smaller for me and b) she likes to aim for my head and you wouldn't even catch that bullet if you held your arms up,_ _but still, you should make sure she knows it's you when you walk in the door, just in case she decides to aim low today. That or you should sleep until one of us comes to wake you to get ready to go back to Central, should you want to go._
> 
> _Sincerely,_
> 
> _Colonel Roy Mustang, Flame Alchemist, expert paperwork procrastinator_

Did the bastard just call him so short a bullet aimed for his shiny army boots would hit Edward's head if he stood in front of the colonel?! Ed wanted to rip the note apart but then he was too happy that it held the question if he really wanted to go back to central, so he put it with the others he still kept. He then went down to the kitchen, keeping his head low as he peaked into the room because Hawkeye _was_ scary when it came to work that should be done. There was the click of a safety being removed. He froze.

"Don't draw your weapon in my house!" Pinako chided.

"I'm sorry." Hawkeye apologised sincerely. "It isn't the colonel anyway." She sighed.

Then Ed was greeted by the three women who unlike him and Mustang seemed to prefer getting up early and were already bustling around, making breakfast.

"I would have come to wake you soon," the lieutenant said, obviously surprised that not only the lazy colonel but also the sleep-loving teen had woken up on their own.

"Eh? It's nine, the train comes at eleven, why wake me at nine already when quarter to ten would have been enough?" Ed asked, mourning the sleep he might have gotten, even if he had woken up earlier on his own, and then grinned at the colonel's missing briefcase sitting next to Hawkeye's underneath the kitchen table where the lieutenant must have put it so her superior couldn't _accidentally_ forget the papers here in Resembool.

"The colonel said you might want the time to go make a visit," she answered.

And he knew immediately what that meant. Go to his mother and Al's grave. Ed swallowed. He should do that, shouldn't he? But he really didn't want to. While he had never been afraid of visiting his mother's grave because he knew her first death wasn't his fault he wasn't sure he could look at Al's grave because _that_ was his fault. He wouldn't get a stupid idea like trying that transmutation again, no that lesson he had learned very well, but what if he was just overwhelmed again, what if he just dropped to his knees and shut down again? He didn't want to do that, he wanted to get better, he had promised Al he'd live on even if he didn't deserve it. Getting better was living on and it made the people around him happy too.

"Where's the colonel?" he asked.

The colonel was one of the people who'd be happy if he got better and lived on. The colonel could get Ed out of it should that grave be too much.

"I don't know. I guess he just sneaked out of the house before I could wake him so he would attend to his paperwork." Hawkeye shrugged, not pleased.

"But where did he go?" Ed pressed.

"Well, I guess he went there early so you could have your privacy now. Because when I told him the military must have shoved that stick in deep when he looked all posh and orderly even before his first coffee he just chuckled and said 'It's just the way a soldier visits a grave: looking all proper to pay his respects'," Pinako said calmly.

And Ed turned and ran for the cemetery before the colonel left there and he'd have to ask him to visit that grave with him.


	28. Father Before The Grave

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In case it confuses people: The italic parts inbetween of what Roy tells Ed at the grave are what Roy actually said but doesn't tell Ed.

Edward ran for the cemetery. It felt strange to run because usually he went there at a rather slow and sad pace, but he had to catch the colonel so he ran there anyway. If the colonel had woken up and slipped out of the house around the time that Granny Pinako came down to the kitchen for her first coffee then he must have been at the graves for almost more than an hour by now and Ed had no idea why he would stay there this long. Mustang hadn't known Al that much. So chances were that he was on his way back already and Ed had to catch him because the boy was not sure he would manage to explain to Mustang why the colonel needed to accompany him to Al's grave. So Ed sped up, only to come to a panting stop at the cemetery's gate and with no colonel in his line of sight.

He frowned, confused. Had Mustang gotten lost somewhere on his way back from or to the cemetery and was now aimlessly wandering around somewhere? No, the colonel might be a desk jockey most of the time but that didn't mean he would get lost on this short way, especially when all you had to do to find the Rockbell house again was to walk up the nearest hill and have a look around Resembool's peaceful countryside.

So where did that idiot wander off to? Ed decided to climb the nearest hill because you cannot only spot the Rockbell house from there but people in the fields and on the dirt paths around, too. He trudged up the hill and turning in a slow circle looked over the fields, taking a moment to revel in the warm breeze and appreciate the wonderful view of his small hometown. Then he looked closer. The only people he could see were two farmers, one busy with hitching a horse to a wagon, the other one checking on his cows that peacefully chewed the grass, and two men walking down one of the dirt paths. Not a single lone person in blue. But then his gaze drifted back towards the two men who were walking towards the train station it seemed. And realisation slapped him in the face.

There was no blue because Mustang was wearing his black coat over his uniform. And he had been out so long because he had met someone. Someone who Ed hadn't seen in a long, long time yet who was just as familiar as the black haired colonel he walked with.

Anger boiled up in Ed, anger and a strange panic. _That man_ was walking away from Resembool again and _Mustang was walking with him_ , down the path towards the train station. What if _that man_ had told the colonel the reasons why he left in the first place? And what if those reasons would make Mustang leave too?! Ed ran down the hill, chasing them, nearly falling over his own feet several times.

"YOU BASTARD!" he yelled when in safe hearing distance. Funny how the one time it wasn't meant for him Mustang turned around first yet the man Ed was talking to was completely confused and turned a second later and only to see what that screaming was about. "Don't you dare walk away again without an explanation and DON'T YOU DARE TAKE HIM WITH YOU!" He tried to jump at the man and punch him in his damn surprised face but was held back by two strong arms wrapping around him and pulling him with his back against their owner's chest.

"Calm down, Fullmetal."

"No! It's his fault, it's all his fault for walking away!" He tried to wriggle out of Mustang's grip but the colonel held on tight and so all Ed could do to unload his anger was scream it into Hohenheim's face. "It's your fault mum withered away waiting for you to come back! And now you're here to make sure Mustang walks away too because I bet you think it's my fault, you think it's my fault that mum died before you finally moved your ass back here! But it isn't, I tried to help her you bastard, I DID TRY! I EVEN TRIED TO BRING HER BACK! And now Al is dead too because you weren't there to stop me from being so stupid, YOU WEREN'T THERE TO LOOK AFTER YOUR OWN SONS! So it's all your fault, IT'S YOUR FAULT! YOU HAVE NO RIGHT TO TAKE MUSTANG AWAY JUST TO PUNISH ME SO I'M ALONE AGAIN WHEN IT'S YOUR FAULT!"

He was out of breath from the screaming now and panting and seething in anger he stared at the still startled Hohenheim.

"Edward, he's not taking me anywhere," Mustang then calmly said behind him and Ed snapped his head around, staring into black eyes, begging their owner to speak the truth. "Even if he tried to, I wouldn't let him. All we did was exchange some information. So calm down now, okay?" Ed nodded slowly, clinging to the words, and relaxed his combat-ready body. "Okay, then I'll let go of you now and you'll refrain from punching him for the moment, deal?"

"Deal," Ed mumbled and Mustang released his hold on him. He felt oddly exposed now that there were no more arms around him but he ignored that and continued glaring at Hohenheim. At least now the man looked slightly sad.

They looked at one another in tense silence then the colonel, ever the diplomat, spoke again. "I've been away from my lieutenant for quite a while now, I better go back and appease her crave for filled out paperwork. So how about you bring your father to the train station, Fullmetal?" _And have a conversation with him on the way._

Ed could hear the unspoken words very well. "I don't want to talk to him, I've got nothing more to say to him." He crossed his arms and would have walked away had he not been waiting for the colonel, still afraid that the man might leave him too. The fear was probably childish and irrational, hell, Mustang even said he wouldn't leave, but still. Ed would feel better once they were safely somewhere far away from Hohenheim.

"You really want to miss the opportunity to get to know your father again?" Mustang asked, casually, his usual practical self, any implications that he who too had lost his father early thought of Ed's action as an ungrateful waste of luck hidden away, if they existed.

Ed stubbornly stared at the fields in direction of the Rockbell house. "Yes, I don't care about him anymore."

"I thought you wanted an explanation why he left?"

Just why was Mustang pressing the matter so much? Wasn't saying he didn't want to deal with this once enough? What did the colonel expect to happen? Some intensive talk, then making up and a tear-filled reunion, followed by building a new house to live a happy ever after in Resembool? Ed swallowed. Maybe it was just that. Maybe Mustang didn't want the responsibility of looking after Ed any more now that the one who should have done that was back. Maybe he hoped to just push Ed at Hohenheim so he could resume his normal life again. A life where he didn't have to look after an emotional wreck of a teenager who never made things easy for him. Ed did have a _father_ so there was no need for Mustang to extend his care for a subordinate to this level anymore. He had done his part and now he'd hand the task back to the one who should have handled it but didn't and probably would never. And that prospect _hurt._

"I-..." What was he supposed to do? If he'd cling then the colonel would probably just be annoyed and think of Ed as even more screwed up than he was. But he couldn't just let it happen either. "I-..."

For once Hohenheim did something useful. "I do have some time still, maybe I can come along to the Rockbell house? I haven't seen Pinako in a while. Then we can still see about that talk," he suggested. Ed just nodded. Good, that would give him some time to figure out how to tell the colonel that he really didn't want to go with Hohenheim just because the man was his biological father.

They walked towards the Rockbell house in silence, though Ed slowed when they neared the cemetery they had to pass on the way. He knew that if he wanted to take the train back to central with the colonel then he'd have to go there now, there was no time to come back later. And he felt that he should really go there, even if facing his brother's grave frightened him. But not without...

He glanced at the colonel who steadily walked forwards, face not telling what he was thinking about and eyes languidly drifting over their surroundings, partially appreciating the view, partially just being a bit paranoid. If he just asked for the man to come with him now then that wouldn't help him make sure the colonel would think of him as less damaged than he was. But then...

" _I admit it's sometimes hard to look after you but it's no burden because I get a reward. I get to see that I helped someone back on his feet. I'm so used to bringing people down, you don't know how good it feels to finally help someone get up."_

That's what the colonel had said. Right before telling him that he'd somehow managed to become quite dear to the man. Ed clenched and unclenched his fists in indecision, then grabbed for the colonel's sleeve after all. His gaze was stubbornly locked on the graveyard but he could see the black haired alchemist turn to him in slight surprise in his peripheral vision. The dark eyes followed the line of sight of the golden ones, then understanding dawned.

Well, not complete understanding. "Do you want us to wait for you?" the colonel offered, only having understood that Ed wanted to visit the graves of his brother and mother. So Ed tugged again, still unable to get the actual question out of his mouth. "Does that mean you want me to go with you?" Ed's hand tightened around the sleeve. "I think I already told you to just speak up if you want something." Mustang good naturedly rolled his eyes but then his face became serious again and he followed Ed towards the cemetery gate.

"You go on or stay there." Ed growled at Hohenheim. How can an angry demand to push someone away be so much easier to get out than asking for someone to stand by you?

Ed still had a grip on Mustang's black coat when they walked up to the two graves yet he wasn't dragging the colonel along, the older man followed on his own, allowing Ed to use his sleeve as a lifeline. The boy had ignored the colonel casting a kind of apologising gaze at Hohenheim before they left the man standing outside the graveyard. In Ed's opinion there was nothing to apologise for, after all Hohenheim was the one who left Ed behind first.

Now his grip on the black fabric tightened as they came to a halt in front of those two graves, those two tombstones peaking out of the green grass right next to the other, staring at him like accusing eyes. His throat felt constricted and like there was a lump stuck in it, yet his eyes remained so dry that it stung. Ed didn't know why he couldn't just cry, maybe he was punishing himself by denying himself the outlet of sadness. But maybe it was because he also just feared for the emotions to swallow him up and leave even less of him than there was left now. There was no office couch here to fall asleep on after crying and he wanted to show the colonel he wasn't that difficult to take care of anymore. And he didn't want to end up a numb vegetable again once he dropped his shields.

He looked at the tombstone of his mother. This one was bearable, the ache still present but over the years something like acceptance had settled in. But finally he focused on Al's grave and that pain was still so fresh he could almost physically feel it. There was the name of his baby brother in stone. Tombstone. Because he hadn't listened to Al. He felt the beginning of a tremble come up and swallowed hard. He needed something to distract and ground him to bear his.

"Mu-... Mustang?"

"Yes?" calmly, quietly.

"Did you- did you come here before you met _him_?"

"Yes, I met Hohenheim when I left the cemetery."

Ed nodded. He stared at the tombstone some more, then offhandedly asked, "Do you believe in a god?"

Mustang raised an eyebrow but refrained from speaking his answer in a 'that was a stupid question'-tone. He simply stated, "I'm an alchemist. I don't believe in gods. Only in monsters. Because if there really is some higher force out there then that's what it is."

"So you don't believe in an afterlife either?" Ed concluded.

"Are you asking me if I believe the dead can still hear us?"

"I... yes, I think that's my question."

They stood there for a moment in thoughtful silence then with a small sardonic smile Mustang said, "I don't believe in an afterlife. But on the off chance that there is one after all I tell them what I wanted them to know anyway."

"What did you tell Al?" he couldn't help being curious. Maybe he hoped the answer would help him with finally telling Al something himself.

Mustang shrugged lightly. "Just said-  
 _Hey Alphonse... bet you didn't expect me to show up here again, huh? But then I_ did _know you, even if only fleeting, and I feel that's why I should visit you.  
_ -hello. And told him-  
 _It sounds stupid and I know it's too late but I really wish I had taken the time to get to know you better. I'm kind of looking after Fullmetal now. No, I always looked after Fullmetal. What I do now is look after_ Edward _. Really look after him. Care for him, I guess. And it makes me think about if maybe I should have started doing so earlier, when you were still there. If I should have really looked after the both of you instead of now only picking up the shards of the brother left. But then you always had each other so maybe it really wasn't necessary for me to do more then try and filter out the more unpleasant assignments that wouldn't help you with your research anyway but give you some nightmares still. And then there was Hughes who was cut out for looking after you so much better than I will ever be. But still, I wonder if I haven't missed out on something, if maybe there would have come something good from really getting to know the two of you earlier and keeping an eye on you in less superficial ways. I don't know if you care, if you ever thought that I should be nicer to you or something, but I think I maybe should have tried. And that's what I wanted to tell you. ...I think Ed will come along later. Don't be angry with him for taking so long, he still feels guilty. Though I bet you'd agree with me that it really wasn't his fault. I promise you I'll try to help him get over it. ... Farewell Alphonse, I hope you are with your mother should afterlife exist._  
\- that I'll look after you."

Ed glanced at the colonel who was still looking down at the graves with a determined expression. He had a feeling Mustang had said a bit more than that but he'd let the words between the lines be unread, for one because those words were meant for Al and not for him and then because the colonel had just said something that calmed his fears and made him smile ever so slightly. Mustang would stay and look after Ed.

"Thanks," he said, the weight that had settled on his heart ever since he saw Mustang walking with Hohenheim, his back to Ed and making the boy afraid that this would be the last thing of the man he'd ever see, falling away from him.

"You're welcome," Mustang answered, smiling just the same way as Ed.

Ed let the moment be for a while, absent-mindedly rubbing the fabric of Mustang's coat between his fingers. Then he looked back at the graves and let go of the black sleeve. Finally he crouched down, wrapped his arms around his knees and put his chin on top. With his gaze on the name now on eye level with him and with Mustang's shadow falling over him reminding him he wasn't alone, he started talking.

"Hey Al..."


	29. What Has Been Taken, What Has Been Given

It was a nice day. A light wind and sunshine. The crops on the fields waved like a golden ocean in the morning light and the grassland followed their example in a rich green. Cows and sheep peacefully grazed and the farmers they belonged to went about their work just as peacefully. Most of them knew the golden haired boy who knelt before a grave at the small cemetery of their home town. But they didn't know he was there. If they did they would have let him mourn in peace, but on the way back from the cemetery they would have been standing at the wayside to say a friendly hello, let him know he wasn't alone and even though he barely came back to this small town any more they would always remember him and care, look into the newspaper and see how he was doing. But even without them he wasn't alone. There was the father who was there for once but had been left behind at the grave yard's gate, the son not willing to get used to his comfort again when he would vanish again. And there was the soldier who cared for his comrade more than a commanding officer needed to, stood by him as he crouched there, eyes on the same level as the name of the person he spoke to even though he wasn't sure if the the little brother was at a place where he could still hear the words of the older one.

"Hey Al... I'm sorry for taking so long to visit you. Don't ever think I forgot about you because I didn't. I just...I'm such a coward Al, I couldn't even walk up here and... and just face what I've done... I know you'll say it's not my fault, you always do, you just have a heart that's bigger than your common sense. If not you'd have ditched me after the first transmutation, anyone with common sense would have seen that I'm too rash and too stubborn to see when I'm wrong and listen to those who voice doubt. But you stayed. You stayed and gave me a chance to learn and make things good again and I want to thank you for that... and apologise for screwing it up. A- apologise for t-taking too long to learn, for learning too late, for just-... I just screwed it up Al and I'm so sorry, I'm so sorry! I even hurt more people before I finally got it into my stupid head that I can't solve everything with alchemy!  
Sometimes I think it would have been better if they hadn't found me... if I had just wasted away in that basement until my corpse looked as broken as yours. But that too would hurt people, because those idiots just won't give up on me! I make them cry, I almost kill them and they still-... Why Al, just why, I don't understand! You know, don't you? You've put up with me too... And now you're gone and I think I should have asked you earlier, when you could-... could still answer me. And then- and then I should have said thanks. Thanks Al, for putting up with me. Even though you'd have made a much better big brother than me. I just should have listened to you more instead of always dragging you into my mess. And I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm so sorry and I'd give everything to be able to turn back time. But that's impossible. Just like human transmutation. And now I know. It's too late but I know. I know...  
And because I know and because those idiots around us won't give up on me I'll go on. I want to follow you so much Al, but I'll go on, I'll achieve something, I don't know what but I'll do something, make use of my life so the knowledge and their caring doesn't go to waste. And if we ever meet again somewhere in some stupid afterlife an alchemist shouldn't even believe in, then I h-hope... I hope you can forgive me once more..." Slowly the small alchemist stood up again. "So now I'll go and catch that train back to Central." He looked at the shadows on the ground, at the shape of another one next to his own. "And don't worry Al, I won't give up on the way. There's this annoying colonel who'll have my head if I do. He's one of those idiots who just won't give up on me. Though I'm glad he doesn't. If he had walked out like that ass who's standing by the cemetery gate right now then he'd set off quite the vicious circle again... Because selfish me can't be alone. But then humans are pack animals, aren't we?" He chuckled quietly, then clapped his hands and let flowers grow around the tombstone. "There, I know you hated how cold graves look."

He turned to his mother's grave and let some colour rise there too. "Hey mum... I'm sorry I sent Al to join you, he should have had some more time on earth before meeting you again. But at least you have each other now... You know, Hohenheim is finally back. I don't know if he had the decency to visit you but... I thought you might be happy to know. You've always been waiting for him..."

Stepping back Edward looked at the two graves which now didn't seem to stare at him in hatred anymore. A tiny smile made its way up on his lips. "I'll come by again," he promised. Finally he turned and, throwing a glance at Mustang, who smirked the small smirk of someone who knew that a lot of work was lying ahead but didn't mind taking it on, he smiled a bit wider and started walking.

"I can tell you why we don't give up on you," the colonel quietly spoke as they passed through the cemetery gate and started on the walk to the Rockbell house, Hohenheim quietly following after them.

Edward blinked in surprise at the colonel who was looking ahead, the upcoming wind ruffling his neatly combed black hair so the bangs slowly fell back down into his eyes. "Knowing you there's a short-joke ahead," he then grumbled, maybe to lead the colonel away from the subject. He had asked Al why, but right now he wasn't sure he wanted to know what they all saw in him, was afraid he couldn't live up to their image. He wanted to do his best for the people around him but he couldn't discern if it would crush him should his best not be enough. And if he was crushed could he get back up on his feet yet again?

The fine smile on Mustang's lips switched into a smirk for a moment but then went back to being subtle happiness expressed in the tiny rise of the corners of his mouth. He turned to look at Ed. "The reason why we don't give up on you, is that we know that _you_ would never give up on _us_. You'd fight with all you have for those who are important to you, and even for those who aren't. You try to be fair, you try not to kill, in a world where it would be so much easier if you had no such scruples. You remind us what humanity is about and that everyone is important." He looked ahead again. "You might not be perfect and you make mistakes too, but still. People like you keep mankind from destroying itself. And that makes you priceless. Not to mention you're our friend."

Ed looked at him with big eyes. But before he could think of anything to say Mustang was once again smirking. "Though if you insist on a comment on your height: Maybe we partly look after you so much because you awake that primary parental instinct in every one of us, since you barely surpass a toddler in height and little kids just have that affect on people- OUCH!"

"I'm sorry for hitting the injury, but I'm not sorry for hitting you in general!" Ed told him but despite grinning he looked in worry at the bent over colonel and crossed his arms in front of his chest, pulling the elbow that he had jabbed at Mustang closer to himself in a subconscious apology and to show he wouldn't do it again.

Mustang slowly straightened again and grinned. "I guess I kind of deserved that... though you practically asked for that comment!"

"I didn't!"

"Yes, you did!"

"No, I didn't!"

Mustang just laughed and started walking again. And even though Ed muttered under his breath about a 'stupid giant colonel' the boy kept walking close by the man's side. It was probably ridiculous but he felt warmer there. Despite the bantering, all the words just said and the sadness from the cemetery were still there, swirling around his mind. Though it was okay, he was not alone.

But it seemed Edward wasn't the only one sinking into some darker thoughts. Ed by now knew the colonel good enough to tell when he drew back into himself a bit. A look at the man told him that something was botherig him. But there was nothing Ed could do about that right now, the colonel wouldn't talk when he himself was still pondering his problem.

They reached the Rockbell house and Ed ignored Pinako making a fuss about Hohenheim. He concentrated on watching Hawkeye scolding the colonel. He made sure he wouldn't have to talk to his _father_. And he still ignored Hohenheim when they all sat around the table, having a late and quick breakfast. Where he had relished their dinner last night he now only concentrated on inhaling food while the others chatted between chewing. Though not all of them chatted. Mustang was quiet. Ed decided to try and find out what was bothering the man once they were on the train.

He was glad that Hohenheim wouldn't take the same train, his _father_ would take one later on in the other direction, farther into the east to the last train station there in a town too tiny to be mentioned on the map. Despite wanting to ignore him Ed had understood that he was planning to visit the Ishbal ruins, something about checking on something, before continuing to Liore for a check there. Maybe the mentioning of Ishbal had ruined Mustang's mood? Anyway, they finally got ready to leave and Ed felt very relieved that he would go back to Central with the colonel, that he was not supposed to stay with Hohenheim. He guessed it was childish that in a last bout of irrational fear he practically followed Mustang everywhere but the bathroom until they all stood on the porch, saying their goodbyes to the Rockbells.

It surprised him when while Hawkeye thanked the Rockbells for their hospitality and Winry and Pinako wished her a good journey and good luck with keeping the colonel in line with the paperwork, he heard a quiet "I'm sorry" spoken in Mustang's voice. Careful to look like he was still busy patting Den without getting licked all over the face by the dog, he glanced over at the colonel who was standing next to Hohenheim, looking at the ground.

"I never meant to steal him from you," he whispered.

"You can't steal what has been given to you," Hohenheim said and Ed looked away when the man's eyes came to settle on him. "I left. You came and you stayed. Edward chose to trust you. I don't blame you."

"Still feels wrong." Ed could practically hear the pained smile.

"It feels wrong to look after him?"

"No, that couldn't feel more right." The pain left the smile for a moment, then returned. "It just feels so wrong that he lets me help him, that he actually turns to me even when..."

"Even when his father is around."

"Yes."

"I haven't been a good father for my boys; I'm sure Edward thinks I don't deserve that title and I probably really don't. But I still care about them... him. And that is why I'm relieved to know that someone looks after Edward and is there for him. Again, I don't blame you, Colonel Mustang. Just promise me to never leave him behind like I did."

Ed peaked up from between his bangs, just in time to see Mustang stand a bit straighter and look Hohenheim in the eye, his face unbelievable open and honest, showing he said it because he wanted to and because he meant it. "I promise."

Hohenheim nodded, relieved. "Thank you."

And Ed hid his face in the dog's fur and hugged Den tightly, not sure why he felt like crying.

When they finally walked away from the yellow house Ed looked back over his shoulder once. Not to glare in anger or hate at Hohenheim, no, just a look back to show the man how much difference that could make when you see someone walking away.

And maybe to thank him for not giving the colonel a bad conscience and speaking him free of the irrational guilt of having stolen away his son.

Because in this case Ed didn't mind admitting that Hohenheim was right. Mustang hadn't stolen Edward from his father. Ed had given the colonel his trust all on his own.

And he didn't regret it.


	30. A Bumpy Ride

"Late trains..." Mustang grumbled in a tone that put an unspoken "I hate..." in front of the words he said aloud.

They were at Resembool Train Station, waiting for the train that was supposed to bring them back to Central. And so far it was running late. Almost twenty minutes, a scandal in a country where arriving at the station at 11:30 when the train was scheduled for 11:29 meant you could watch your train vanish in the distance without you on board in ninety percent of the cases. Needless to say that the people who were used to being on time for their trains became royally pissed whenever a train was late after all.

Hawkeye just sighed at her commanding officer as the man slouched on the bench they occupied. He seemed to have decided that there was no one around he needed to impress so he might as well let it be obvious that he didn't like waiting around. Ed just grinned, despite not being too happy about having to wait himself. He liked to see Mustang showing frustration about something as mundane as a late train, it somehow made him seem like any normal civilian and so Ed could almost pretend that they were just a group of normal people. It felt good to have that little break from the craziness that usually surrounded them.

Suddenly Mustang perked up and when Ed followed the man's gaze he could see steam rising on the horizon, a telltale sign that their train was finally about to arrive. Though when the train drew closer it became obvious that it was not a civilian train meant to carry people but a military freight train. This time even Hawkeye sighed and slumped in her seat as they prepared to see that train pass by and wait even longer for their ride.

Yet the freight train slowed down and came to a stop at Resembool Station. Ed had almost forgotten that his small home town was the main source of the wool the military needed for their uniforms and other stuff, but he remembered as he watched several crates being loaded onto the train. And then it seemed like the three travellers had some luck after all. One of the train workers saw the colonel and the lieutenant's uniforms and since it was a _military_ freight train he asked where they wanted to go.

"We're on our way back to Central, but our train is running late. Very late," Mustang supplied with a glance at his pocket watch.

"Oh, we could take you with us then, we're on the way to Central as well! So what do you say, sir, nonstop express back to town?" the friendly redhead with coal dust all over the face asked.

"That would be very nice!" Had the train worker been a woman he might have swooned at Mustang's smile. But as it was he just grinned and scratched at his neck, smearing some more black grime and dust all over the place. Ed liked this carefree person who was so happy that he could help someone.

"Well, follow me then! It's not very luxurious and you might get a bit dusty but you'll be back at central so fast it will be worth the bumpy ride! I'm Thomas by the way!" He did a lazy but not mocking salute for Hawkeye and Mustang, the way Havoc sometimes did, and grinned at Ed.

"Nice to meet you Thomas, thank you for taking us along," the colonel said as they followed Thomas towards one of the wagons near the end of the train.

"No problem, sir!"

Thomas cheerfully yelled at the other train workers to let them know of their guests before finally pulling open the sliding door of one of the wagons. "I think this one will be the most comfortable to ride in, it's not loaded fully up to the roof so you can sit on the crates here. Plus there's lots of light falling in here."

"It'll do, thank you." Hawkeye was already climbing in.

"Yeah, thanks for taking us!" Ed grinned and hopped in after the lieutenant.

The colonel nodded at the train worker. "Thank you, keep up the good work," he said before making his way into the wagon as well. The door was closed and a while later the train started moving.

It was indeed bumpy and a bit dusty, but unlike in the small seats on the civilian trains they could change position often enough to not let it bother them. The only thing that really annoyed Ed was the lack of windows. He knew he'd be bored out of his mind soon with nothing to distract him. So looking for distraction he glanced over at Hawkeye.

She seemed to be in search of something as well because she was inspecting the freight. Confused, Ed turned to Mustang, hoping the colonel could explain why his lieutenant was scrutinizing every surface in the wagon. But the Mustang was busy smirking widely at the Hawk.

"Give up, Lieutenant, there's no way that I can do paperwork properly and legibly on this bumpy train ride and with no smooth surface to put those precious documents on!" he said triumphantly.

Then, he almost cringed and nearly ducked behind a crate when Hawkeye threw him a glare that spoke of punishment through even more paperwork later on. Only years of training in keeping up an unfazed appearance allowed him to remain seated where he was and sheepishly scratch at his neck while inconspicuously peering at the pistol on her hip to make sure it was still in its holster and not in her hand.

Ed was about to let the colonel sweat a bit by suggesting he could transmute a crate into some sort of desk when Mustang suddenly turned serious. "But even if it was possible to do paperwork here, I would still rather use the time to tell you what Hohenheim told me. After all I didn't talk to him so long without a reason."

Hawkeye dropped her glare and Ed fidgeted a bit where he sat. It still irked him that Hohenheim had talked to Mustang so much, even after the colonel made it clear that he wouldn't be the second man to leave Ed behind.

The colonel stretched and got comfortable on his crate before starting to talk.

"Since Hohenheim travelled so much and has a vast arsenal of knowledge, I asked him what he knows about creatures who have a Philosopher's Stone for a heart and don't die from a shot through the head. Well, he knows them and called them Homunculi."

"Homunculi?" Ed asked, his brain immediately starting to sort through his memory for everything he knew about those beings.

"Yes. Apparently there are a few of them running around. Hohenheim is just testing a theory about what they are up to. I think-"

And suddenly the whole world seemed to topple over.

The train car jumped, then lurched, then jerked and finally it turned over and up was down and left was right and for a moment Ed was sure all laws of gravity had decided to play a prank on him by leaving him utterly confused in the sudden crash. All he knew for sure was that suddenly he was grabbed, felt like tied up with ropes though whatever had him was alive, looked like plants but wasn't and closed around him like a cocoon. Something hit him over the head and the last thing he saw was Mustang and Hawkeye trying to grab a hold of something as the train car turned over once more.

* * *

His head hurt.

He tried to blink.

The light flooding through his slowly parting lashes hurt his head even more.

He kept his eyes shut for a while longer... or at least he tried to. He heard Mustang and someone else talking and he wanted to know what was going on. He was sure he had heard that sadistic other voice before somewhere...

"You just won't die you little human cockroach, will you? Ah well, more fun for me! Let's see, you are supposed to have died in this accident... So how about we smash in your head, starting with that nose you just won't stop poking where it doesn't belong?"

Ed finally opened his eyes enough to make out the blurred form of one of the creatures – homunculi, his brain corrected – from that night in the alley. It seemed to be a he and was bend over the sprawled out form of Mustang. The colonel seemed a bit dazzled as he lay in the train wreck but gradually those dark eyes became aware and sharp with intelligence. Not far away from him lay Hawkeye, knocked out, dead, Ed couldn't tell but he hoped with all he had that she was only unconscious.

The boy tried to get up, only to realise that he was still wrapped up in those green, living ropes. To his horror they seemed to come out of the arm of that homunculus creature.

"Stop squirming, pipsqueak. You're lucky you're already a confirmed sacrifice. Just hold still and you'll live until we don't need you anymore." The homunculus grinned. Envy; Ed remembered the other homunculus had called this one Envy.

Envy turned back to Mustang who just cleared his throat before starting to speak.

"So you had a train derail just to get me? Not exactly subtle, are you? Makes me wonder what I did to make you chase me?" The colonel had managed to sit up and glared at the homunculus before turning to take in the scene around them when there was no immediate answer.

The train had come to a stop a good way next to its rails and was half way lying on the side, pulled into that position by what used to be the wagon Ed, the colonel and Hawkeye had been in. The wreck was still and silent, no movement, no sign of the train workers. It would have been worse had it been a civilian train full of even more people and Ed wondered if the homunculus had tried for some damage control after all. But he still couldn't be happy that the number of death was small this way. Death was death, no matter how high the number and had he been able to Ed would have punched Envy in the face until the homunculus stopped moving. But as it was he could only squirm and dither like an angry shark that was dizzy from a hit over the head and hopelessly stuck in a fisher net.

"Oh, so far you haven't done anything but be too nosey..." the creature finally drawled and scowled at the colonel while tightening its grip on Ed to keep him still.

Mustang ignored Envy and scrambled over to Hawkeye, having finally spotted her. "Lieutenant!" Carefully he checked her pulse and then sighed in relief. Good, Hawkeye was alive.

Envy snarled. "I was talking to you, stupid human!" He made to extend his arm and grab the colonel but then shrieked in pain and pulled back as flames licked up his skin. Ed was dropped to the ground as the homunculus regenerated and focused on Mustang.

The Flame Alchemist narrowed his eyes at the creature. "How about we have a nice conversation full of you explaining what's going on and after that you'll follow the fate of your friend – what was her name? - Lust?" The colonel's voice was cold and Envy actually blanched a little.

The alchemist did not take his eyes off the homunculus when he spoke to Ed. "Fullmetal, get over here."

Ed blinked. He needed a moment to process the order, his head still a bit dizzy. But then he made his stumbling way over to Hawkeye's limp form next to Mustang's feet. He growled at himself, feeling the need to help and hating that he couldn't.

Oh, he had seen Mustang burn that other homunculus to death but he had also seen the toll it had taken on the colonel. He couldn't risk that happening again, they were far too far from help this time and he just couldn't lose the colonel! Not after all that had happened, not when he had just heard Mustang promise that he would never leave Ed behind!

Panic welled up in the boy and he cursed whatever had hit him over the head and rendered him so uncoordinated. It had probably been that homunculus beast that now stood there, snarling at Mustang.

"Tch, you won't get to burn me, I'll kill you!" Envy lashed out but before he could hit Mustang he doubled over, holding his burned face. "Fine, you'll get your battle!" He hissed in rage and tried to snag Hawkeye's unconscious form by extending his arm into those green tentacles again. He screeched in surprise and pain when those where burned off too.

"I am quite precise with my fire so you better don't try to touch them. I'll only hurt you more if you do so focus. on. me." the colonel calmly spoke. "Now tell me, what is it you think I shouldn't poke my nose in?"

Envy glowered but decided on answering the question, probably trying to buy some time to figure out a way to get Mustang without getting burned. "Like you don't know! There's only one thing you've been secretly investigating for a while now, isn't there?!" he trailed off with a cackle when Mustang's eyes narrowed even more.

"Are you telling me that you're so pissed off because I'm looking into Hughes' case? What the hell would a crazy little moron like you have to do with Maes Hughes?"

Envy just grinned widely. "Yes, Maes Hughes... quite the intelligent man and such a good heart, wouldn't you agree? Let me tell you a little story about him so you'll finally understand why we don't like you poking around in the matter..." And Envy sat down, crossed his legs, propped his elbows on his knees and rested his head in his palms. Still grinning he started his little story.

"You see, when our dear Meas Hughes heard that the Elric boys were around and had a hard time decoding some research he came by to cheer them up. But those boys were gone, out to head after another clue, after a complete stone that was said to be not far away. They just figured that Marcoh's research wouldn't run away while they pursued that other stone that seemed to be so promising. So, being the true friend he is... " a smirk " _was_... our dear Hughes thought that, just in case that this other lead turned out false, he would help them decode Marcoh's research.

I know, I know, Maes Hughes was no alchemist. But he still was a very smart man who had a talent for codes and hidden information so with what the pipsqueak and his brother already had decoded for help he was able to unravel quite a bit of this puzzle. Not all, but the main gist. Enough to find out about that sweet main ingredient for a Philosopher's Stone. And knowing those selfless brothers would never use a stone made from human lives he tried to warn them. But having no idea where they currently where he started to dig in deep." Envy sighed.

"In hindsight I really should have let him stop them. It would have caused far less problems than we have now because you," he pointed at Ed "have messed up the transmutation and you," he pointed at Mustang "started snooping around. Anyway, while our dear Hughes searched for the Elrics he also tried to find out where that stone you were after might have come from, because after all it takes _a lot_ of human souls for a decent stone. And that in turn lead to him putting far too much thought into all the little wars this country had going on, until finally he saw the circle on the map.

The last nail in the coffin he built himself ever since he became involved with you alchemists. We had to kill him then, couldn't risk him calling The Flame and let him know about our conspiracy. Or risk him stopping the Elrics from hunting after one of our little helpers who was supposed to go and create some blood shed in the north with that cheap test stone we gave them. It was just so convenient to have you out of the way up north so we could get our hands on Marcoh's research and destroy it once done with Hughes. And you wouldn't believe how much fun I had giving that idiot human up north a nice slow end when he screwed up and let you take that stone from him and make a mess out of one of our sacrifices."

Envy cackled but then stopped abruptly. "Though that sadly wasn't worth the trouble. He screamed nicely but we still have one sacrifice less _and_ we have to think about another way for a blood seal by Briggs. Can't even send Kimbley up there now because stupid Lust got in my way. Such a shame. And now I gotta kill another potential candidate because he won't stop pining after Hughes... Such a mess, all because of one damn man..." he sighed. "Now, if that wasn't too much for your little human brains I trust you now understand why I am quite frustrated with you and would love to take it out on the Flame Colonel here?"

"There are two things I'd still like to know, after that you can bring it on..." Little sparks fell from Mustang's gloves already. "One: Why did you send Kimbley on that killing tour in Central?"

"Easy!" the homuculus laughed. "To keep you so busy hunting another criminal that you had to stop looking into Hughes' case! Though maybe a scape goat would have done a better job with satisfying your curiosity. Maybe I should have blamed that Ross girl, she-"

"Two:" Mustang interrupted, disgust written all over his face. "You said _we_. But who _exactly_ killed Maes Hughes?"

Envy clapped his hands like an exited little kid. "Well, my dear colonel, that would be me!"

And the colonel laughed. "Like such an idiot whose plans went all wrong could have killed a man like Hughes!"

"Idiot? I think an idiot is someone who falls for a cheap trick like this!"

Red lightning flickered around the homunculus as its shape changed. And then the monster turned into a mother, into loving, innocent Gracia.

But an ugly grin twisted her kind face when the creature that took on her shape laughed, laughed at their wide eyes and horror. "Your face! Just like Hughes! Just like him when I shot him! All the sorrow and pain and confusion just because his wife pointed a pistol at him and fired!" And then the laugh turned into a pain filled screech and smoke left that mouth instead of the mad giggle.

"Interesting how easy the tongue burns, huh?" Mustang asked, pulling the cloth of his ignition glove tight over the back of his hand. "Fullmetal, stay with the lieutenant and make sure you two have cover. I'll show this scum how it is to be at the receiving end of punishment...!"

Snap. Boom. Screams echoing around the wreck of the train as flames cast their shadows over the dead steam machine.

Ed had been afraid of losing the colonel to injury.

Now he saw that the ugly demon of vengeance that just started to devour Mustang from the inside was much more dangerous than everything that Envy could cause from the outside.

It scared the hell out of the boy yet it also made him stronger.

You're always strongest when you want to save someone so important to you.


	31. And He Shall Burn

The fire roared, a raging wild thing that eats up almost everything that comes its way. It doesn't care that it'll die once it devoured everything, it's just a blind, barely controllable heat that won't mind killing itself just as long as it takes everything else with it. Only once nothing is left will the fire simmer out, will slowly lose its glow and fade away like an old man dying in his bed after having a long happy life. That's the fires nature: devour, devour, devour, then die because nothing is left for it to eat.

And the same went for the barely controlled alchemist controlling that raging force. The Flame. The Flame that used to burn safely, steadily, controlled, like a candle. But now that candle has been toppled over and the Flame went wild on all the new things suddenly within its reach. So suddenly presented with the murderer of his best friend, so suddenly presented with the source of so much grief and sorrow and guilt. So suddenly presented with all the things it wants to be gone, burned to ashes and swept away with the wind.

And then that homunculus wasn't even one bit sorry but mocked him in his face.

Too much strain on the already tight leash of self control, it snapped and with it the demon it was supposed to hold back.

Edward watched with wide eyes as the colonel didn't even flinch when Envy screamed and writhed. Oh, he did think the homunculus deserved a big amount of punishment for everything it had caused to happen. But not at this price. Not when the colonel actually laughed when the homunculus decided to take him on in the form of something giant and green that is too ugly for even the title of monster.

"A bigger target? How convenient!" he scorned and set the creature ablaze. And said creature screeched in pain and so did all the faces that cover it and Ed just knew those were the souls trapped in the Philosopher's Stone that makes up the homunculus' core. And remembering the Mustang who yelled at him in the Rockbell kitchen, telling him he was a murderer for killing off all the souls trapped within Lust, Ed also knew that he needed to do something or said caring Mustang would be gone.

His head seemed willing to kill him but while the homunculus decided that running might be the better action when faced with a Roy Mustang who is out to kill, Ed managed to get on his hands and knees. His stomach lurched and he used Envy, who now tried to take shelter in the remains of one of the toppled wagons, as something to focus on, set on keeping track of the things happening around him.

He could see that Envy wanted to run but the colonel wouldn't let him, burning the homunculus repeatedly and so fast he could barely take a step away. The creature finally made its way into the wagon, probably hoping to have time to think of a way out while having cover, but one snap and the freight wagon turned into a fireball.

"Hiding in a wooden wagon stuffed with wool, what a fool," Mustang said in a singsong tone that sounded like Envy himself. He walked over to one of the other wagons, climbing up onto its side, that was now the roof, with moves that seemed far too calm and precise for the uncontrolled rage consuming him. From his new vantage point the colonel waited for the homunculus to crawl out of its current funeral pyre and walk into the next one.

"Colo-" Ed tried to simultaneously call out for him and get to his feet. Neither worked out and he ended up on the ground again, groaning.

Envy burst from the burning train car, screaming and cursing, raced past the wagon the colonel was standing on and made a beeline for one of the others. This one was made of metal, probably because it contained the more critical freight. The homunculus made use of its inhuman strength to rip the bolted door open and vanished inside.

"You damn coward!" Mustang yelled at him. "But fine with me!" And the flames encircled the metal shell of the wagon, licked up its sides, made the paint of the green Amestrian lion peel away and the matt silver turn to black. The colonel moved his arms like a musics conductor, the array on his gloves glowing brightly, and the red and gold flared and surrounded the train car completely. It would have been an impressive, even beautiful performance had it not had the side effect of turning the metal wagon into a cooking pot for the homunculus inside.

The creature screamed. "You damn human, you won't get me like this!" The voice was contorted by pain and anger and the noise of the flames made it even harder to understand, but they heard him still. "Soon someone will come running and all I've got to do is take on the shape of some random train worker and they'll think you're crazy if you keep attacking me! They'll treat you like a wild dog!" Envy laughed and kept screaming at the same time, a horrible sound that made Ed want to hide.

Roy Mustang's answer was an angry growl and another snap of his fingers. The fire around the train car turned white blue as the Flame Alchemist drove the heat to its peak. The wagon itself began to glow from the temperature. Then there were the first popping sounds.

"The ammunition in the car is cooking off... why is he doing that? He should know better..." Ed turned towards the slightly disorientated voice of Hawkeye. The lieutenant was awake again and Edward momentarily forgot about his spinning head and the feeling of helplessness creeping up inside of him. He managed to kneel next to her as she got into a crouching position, checking for her guns as soon as she was somewhat steady.

"The homunculus who killed Hughes is hiding inside of the wagon," Ed managed to explain, blinking to keep his vision from blurring as he once again tried to stand. Hawkeye was faster on her feet and caught him by the shoulders when he was about to topple over again. She looked at her commander and by the way her face saddened Ed realised she didn't see the Roy Mustang they all knew and followed anymore, either.

"He needs to be stopped," the boy whispered. "Revenge is eating him up..."

"I'll go and try to calm him. You'll wait here." And Hawkeye made her way to the train. She staggered through the debris but just when she was about to climb onto the car wreck the colonel was standing on, the wagon he was smoking out exploded.

It seemed there hadn't only been the kind of ammunition that popped as harmless as popcorn when thrown into fire inside of that train. Whatever else it had contained tore the car apart with a loud bang and blinding light.

There was a ringing in Ed's ears, but he didn't think he was hurt anywhere. When he finally managed to blink the dark spots from his vision he could see that Mustang wasn't on top of his vantage point train car anymore. In fact, Ed couldn't see him at all, but the boy wasn't sure if that wasn't only his blurring vision's fault. Though he could spot Hawkeye who seemed to have been somewhat shielded from the blast by the wagon she had been about to climb onto. The lieutenant looked around, trying to locate her commanding officer. Not immediately seeing him either she seemed about to go search for him but stopped in her tracks when there was a more than crazy laugh to be heard from the exploded wagon.

The expression on the homunculus' face as he managed to rise once more looked like he had managed to regenerate everything but the brain cells needed for sanity. Salivating like a rabid dog Envy looked around with eyes wide open, trying to find his blue clad nemesis. His wild gaze landed on Hawkeye instead, grinning in what seemed to be delight but was far too dark to actually be it.

"So he doesn't like it when I hurt his little friends, eh? You'll make a wonderful shield for me!" he exclaimed and pounced.

He obviously hadn't counted on Hawkeye not being one to easily fall into the role of the damsel in distress. The blonde sniper always carried more guns than the regular soldier and now she made good use of them, confronting Envy with quite the portion of bullets. But then one of Envy's long green tentacles made it past her defences after all and grabbed her, slamming her to the ground hard enough to make her drop the guns she'd been holding. Edwards staggered forward, ready to clap his hands despite his head still aching and not being clear enough to properly transmute, but then a tongue of fire licked the green extension of the homunculus' arm away.

"And what do you think you're doing to my subordinate?" Mustang coldly, calmly asked as he walked up to them. He looked like he'd been thrown off the top of the train car by the blast of the explosion. Decorated by streaks of soot and dust, a bit of blood from where flying debris had caught him, his black overcoat billowing behind him, seam in tatters. And still the homunculus stared at him in fear.

The murderous expression shadowed by his black hair falling into his eyes darkened even more when the colonel received nothing but insults coupled with the word human for an answer. And then Envy burned once more and burned and burned and burned until he began to fade away, leaving nothing but something that looked like an ugly, green leech behind.

A heavy black boot came down to trap the creature and Mustang looked down at the homunculus. "Your true form, such an ugly thing... But then Envy means jealousy and what is jealousy but ugly?" the colonel mused. Edward had made his way over close enough by now to hear the tiny creature whine about how he didn't want to die. He was also close enough to hear the click of Hawkeye's pistol when she aimed it at Mustang's skull.

"That's enough, sir. Let me deal with him from here on," the lieutenant said.

Mustang barely spared her a glance, too focused at his enemy squirming underneath his boot. "He's as good as dead. I'll finish him off. Put the gun down, Lieutenant!"

"I cannot follow this order, sir. Put your hand down!"

"Like hell I will! And I won't ask you again!"

And Ed slammed his hands to the ground a couple feet away from them. The transmutation was neither very precise nor spectacular but Mustang looked like he'd burn the gun out of Hawkeye's hand so Ed just had to do _something_. He barely caught the homunculus his transmutation had thrown into the air but then his automail fist closed around Envy and immediately black eyes void of any warmth or compassion focused on him.

"Ah, Fullmetal. I'd like to have that back."

Ed stared at the colonel and found nothing that looked like the man who had carried him back to the dorms, had written stupid notes, had taken him in his home and dragged him out of the bathtub after nightmares. Not a trace of the Roy Mustang who listened to him, talked to him, comforted and held him. Who played cards, talked about alchemy all night, participated in a pillow fight and never failed to pull a short joke, laughing freely, sometimes mockingly, sometimes not. No, this Mustang he saw now wouldn't search the whole city for him if he ran away, would never speak a thoughtful word to cheer him up or help him through hardships, would never protect someone with his life. He wouldn't change the country to the better, wouldn't reward his subordinates' loyalty with dedication to their cause and wouldn't care who died, who lived, who suffered and who made himself a better life exploiting others.

All he'd ever be from now on would be a burned out shell of the man they all had admired, called their friend, loved. A name with nothing behind it but dreams gone bad.

"That was an order. Give him to me right now!" Mustang yelled, impatient and angry.

"I won't!" Ed didn't want to lose the colonel, he didn't want the others to lose the colonel and most of all he didn't want the colonel to lose himself to his rage and sorrow and desire for revenge.

The Flame glared at him. "This thing deserves to suffer the worst death there is!" he spat. He lowered his hand as he did so though that didn't mean anything, Ed knew.

The boy said "No!" and Mustang's arm was up again, alchemical discharge flickering over his gloved fingers like lightning.

"Give him to me! Or I'll burn your arm along with him!"

The words hurt more than the burning would. He thought Mustang cared for him yet here he threatened him with bodily harm should Ed not let the man have his way.

"Fine!" he yelled, trying to suppress his own disappointment and anger. "You'll get a fight if you want one! But think about it well before you use those flames on me!"

Mustang looked like the last tiny resolve not to hurt his friends just disappeared. "This is your last warning, Fullmetal! Hand him over!"

And Ed marched towards the colonel and slapped him hard enough that the sound reverberated through the whole side of the train wreck. Mustang blinked, momentarily stunned by the action. Ed on the other hand was seething almost as much as the colonel was just a moment ago.

"You said I could slap you if you were about to do something stupid, remember?! Well, newsflash, Colonel. You are being more than stupid right now, you're not even yourself anymore! You're turning into just another monster! And you want to run the country like this?! You egoistical, stupid, thoughtless, pyromanic idiot!" Ed refused to admit that his eyes became moist as he yelled at Mustang. "Do you even care about what you are doing to us right now?!"

"All I'm doing is getting rid of that pathetic, murdering creature, there's nothing wrong with that!"

"There is something wrong with it because what you're doing is reckless! Please, Colonel!" Hawkeye said, the gun in her hand not steady anymore but still raised to do what she had promised all those years ago.

"But I've finally caught him, I have him right here!" Mustang protested.

"And we won't let him get away! I can dispose of him!" she told him.

"But he's mine!"

"We won't let you have him like this! This is nothing but pure hatred! I thought you were better than that, I thought you were the only one of those military assholes who really had a greater goal in mind than just grabbing for power to feed the ego! But it seems I was wrong and I shudder to think of what will happen to Amestris if we bring you to the top!" Ed pounded the fist holding Envy into Mustang's chest while he hissed at the man.

"He is right. This is only hatred and it won't help anybody. Neither you, nor the country nor our friends. I can't let this take you." Hawkeye said, sad resignation creeping into her voice as she tried to prepare herself for pulling the trigger.

The colonel shivered, torn between the dark and the light side of his heart. "I don't particularly care about getting shot." he said quietly. "But then what will happen to you when I'm gone?"

"I'll follow you into the depths of hell, sir, as promised. I'll end my life and remove the secrets of flame alchemy from this world along with my body."

Mustang flinched.

"And I'll wither away in Resembool. There's no other colonel who'll put up with me."

The fight inside the man was visible to everyone. Ed thought the white gloved fingers would break soon from the tension but then the ignition glove finally sparked and Mustang let go with a howl, the pent up anger evaporating together with the heat of the flame that burned nothing but air somewhere off to their side. The proud man slumped, head hanging.

"I really deserved that slap... such stupidity. I had to be lectured by the child I wanted to look after and I hurt my friends. I'm truly a fool." He turned to Hawkeye, putting his hand on her gun and gently pressing it down. "I'm sorry. Please forgive me." And then all energy and fight seemed to leave him and he just sat down in the middle of the remains of the train car.

Ed smiled and would have sat down next to him, leaning against his side but then the homunculus in his hand reminded them all of its presence.

"Oh come on! Really? He was about to burn you, pipsqueak, he obviously doesn't care for you and here you forgive him? And Hawkeye! He didn't look far away from burning you too and then he broke his promise and strayed from the way to the top just to get me! He would have let all of your hard work go to hell! Or are you humans really nothing but worms unable to pull through with something?"

They just looked at the little green creature in contempt.

"Come on Mustang, you want to get me, don't let them talk you down with a few sappy words! Put them out of your way! Fight each other, burn and shoot and try to get me! You make me sick! Just listen to your guts for once and do what you want to! Kill and gravel in the dirt, hate and weep! This is impossible, you can't just make up like this!"

"Yes we can. And you are jealous, aren't you?" Ed looked down at the sad thing caught in his fist. "Now I get it. You envy us humans because we can forgive, we can stick together and we can love. You homunculi think we are nothing compared to you yet we always get back on our feet, no matter the challenge, and there are always loved ones by our side, supporting us, picking us back up. And you are jealous, you envy us for that."

Envy stared at him, eyes like saucers even wider in horror. "Humans?" it whimpered. And then the green creature seemed to get angry and started wriggling, biting Ed until he got out of the young alchemist's grip.

"Hey! What are you up to!" Ed yelled and then Envy was curling up on the ground.

Mustang and Hawkeye got ready for attack but then they realised the effort wasn't needed anymore.

"I'm not pathetic like that!" Envy claimed in a voice that sounded just that: Pathetic. "Jealous of humans? I? Never! This is so humiliating... getting trampled on by humans! Those weak useless creatures! I'm not jealous! And even worse, the pipsqueak just had to be the one! This is the ultimate humiliation!" And then it cried and wailed and reached inside of its mouth. "

Good luck, pipsqueak!" it said with a sad chuckle. It pulled out the precious stone that kept it alive. And shattered it. Ed watched with wide eyes as Envy dissolved into particle as small and black and insignificant as the sooth on the train wreck. "Good bye, Edward Elric..." and then the homunculus was gone.

"What a coward," Mustang said after a while of them just staring at the now empty space.

Then the colonel stood back up. "Come on. Let's see if maybe some of the train workers were lucky after all."

Nodding, Hawkeye and Ed started walking towards the crashed locomotive.

"Wait, Fullmetal, let me look at your head first!"

Ed stopped and Mustang stepped towards him, pulled off the horrible gloves and carefully picked through Ed's hair, searching for injury. "I think you are concussed. Sit down and let me and Hawkeye do the rescuing."

"I'm fine..."

"Fullmetal, sit down."

Sighing, Ed and his pounding skull gave in. The boy sat on what used to be a train seat and watched as Mustang followed Hawkeye towards the train's front. Though the colonel turned back, dark eyes settling on the younger alchemist once more. "And Edward? Thank you," he said, giving his red cheek a meaningful touch before walking away to search the train wreck.

Ed kneaded the hand he had used for the slap and smiled.


	32. How Far

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've had a concussion myself, once, but unlike Ed's mine has been a severe one that went along with memory loss and some delirium so I don't remember how they treated it and apologise for any medical errors in what I wrote.

The Police car that came to check what the explosion and all the smoke billowing into the sky was about arrived just when Mustang and Hawkeye were dragging the first corpse out of the train wreck. It seemed some train workers had been lucky but some had not. Ed watched as they carefully laid poor Thomas to the ground and hung his head, thinking that the once smiling young man had basically invited his own death when he had offered them the ride on the train. He bit his lip, blinking repeatedly when his eyes turned moist. He couldn't help but feel like this was his fault for being one of the sacrifices those damn homunculi were after, for being the bait that brought Envy here.

But instead of crying he talked to the police officer who came to question him.

He wasn't as good at making up fake stories as Mustang, and he didn't want to say something that might contradict what said man was just telling another police officer, so he had the good sense to act a bit confused and just say that everything happened too fast. Him being so young and concussed helped making that believable.

Finally, after being checked over by a field medic, he, Mustang and Hawkeye took place in the back of one of the military cars that had come when the police had called for them and the firefighters to help clear the train wreck up. Edward could see Armstrong transmuting the earth to lift those train cars that were still somewhat in shape back on the tracks to be pulled away later and then the car set off.

The boy sat sandwiched between the colonel and his lieutenant but he didn't really mind. Actually it helped him sit upright and the warmth of familiar people so close was somewhat soothing. He just felt tired by now and his head still wasn't in the best of shapes. They were to stop at the hospital and Ed was to stay there to be monitored for the night, but he really hoped he could get out of it somehow. Maybe Mustang could do something about it...

He glanced over at the colonel who was staring out of the car window, posture and face saying nothing. By now Ed knew that meant he had things on his mind and was sorting them out. Eventually though a hint of discomfort made its way past the mask of indifference and one hand discretely slipped down to press against the wound still healing at his side. The crash itself, getting blown off the train car when the other wagon exploded, then starting pulling people from the wreck probably took its toll on the injury.

"Sir-" Hawkeye started, who obviously had seen the move as well.

"Yeah, yeah I'll have it checked out, don't worry. That medic chewed me out already..." Mustang grumbled, loosely crossing his arms in front of him and slouching a bit in his seat. He'd rather look like a petulant child than let them see he was still pressing his hand over the wound. Ed would have shaken his head at that but then he felt that with its current condition this would make him sick. Not to mention he probably would have acted just the same as the colonel did now had he been the one stabbed by Lust. So he just focused on keeping his eyes open.

It was more the emotional stress that left him tired than the physical exhaustion. Lately he'd seen so many sides of Mustang that were kinder than he ever expected the man to be, it made seeing him on that rampage even harder. Ed worried his bottom lip, thinking about how the colonel had actually threatened to hurt him should he not hand over Envy. Granted, it was only the automail arm that would have been burned, but still... He had promised to look after Ed. Was that all a farce after all, was he just trying to get his best tool to function again no matter which way? Was he only caring for Ed the same way a huntsman cared for his bloodhounds? With some measure of affection but still never seeing them as equal to his truly loved ones, his true friends, his family? He remembered how the colonel's face had been so very passive when he and Hawkeye put Thomas down to start the row of corpses and shook his head a bit. Just because the colonel didn't drop his mask didn't mean he didn't care, right? He probably just had seen more dead soldiers than Ed knew live ones and not letting it get to him was just self preservation.

But still, that face seemed so very disinterested as he looked at the body of the young soldier that had offered them the ride... It made the boy think about if Mustang would have really pulled through with his threat to burn Ed to get Envy, if he would have looked at him with the same detached expression while Ed suffered from the burns.

Ed curled up on himself as well as he could in the middle seat in the back of a car. Suddenly being sandwiched between those two soldiers didn't feel warm anymore.

* * *

He must have fallen asleep sometime because the next thing he knew Mustang woke him up as the car pulled up in front of the hospital. He could see the colonel raise an eyebrow when Ed didn't complain about being taken to one of his least favourite places but the boy just didn't feel like throwing a fit.

They checked him over and the doctor confirmed he had a concussion. Ed didn't have any memory loss and according to Mustang he hadn't been unconscious for more than five minutes. Apart from a headache and the occasional waves of sickness he was fine, so the concussion was said to be a mild one and should be cured with two weeks of rest and taking it easy afterwards. Ed cursed when they told him not to read during the first week or do anything else that would require concentrating hard or for a long time period. This was bound to be a boring recovery. Just why couldn't he have as much luck as Hawkeye, who'd been knocked out much longer than him but had still gotten away with her head in a perfectly fine state?

Finally he was asked to stay the night, just in case. Before he could think about whether or not to ask the colonel if he could get him out of this, Mustang received the same verdict. Their doctor was one of the few who really cared for their patients and hadn't been happy at all when Mustang left the hospital early to look after Ed, so now he made good use of the opportunity to make sure the colonel healed as perfectly as possible.

The black haired man opened his mouth to protest, but shut it again with a glance at Ed. He knew that if he complained his way out of this then there was no way Ed wouldn't throw a tantrum to get out of the hospital as well. And even though Ed wasn't sure if he'd really throw a fit right now it still made him think that if Mustang was willing to stay just so Ed would stay then maybe he really cared after all?

He watched as the man stepped out of the little bathroom adjoined to their hospital room, wearing clean green hospital pajamas and toweling his hair dry. Ed had gone to clean himself up before him, the moment they were assigned to their room actually. It was irrational but the cleansing water running down his body always left him feeling like bits of guilt and other sad feelings were being washed away as well. Mustang on the other hand had preferred to get control over their situation first, doing telephone calls, coordinating which truths reached which people so as not to reveal their knowledge of the homunculi, plotting and scheming like no tomorrow. He didn't seem to mind that he looked like, well, a train wreck.

Now though Mustang was clean of all the bits of blood and ashes and other dirt, too. He peered out the window, then looked at Ed who'd been sitting on his bed, quietly watching as one by one everyone of the team dropped by to get their instructions and being surprised when everyone of them came over and took the time to ask how he was holding up. Fuery even brought a get-well-card that was now sitting on the small side table next to Ed's bed. Their attention had made him feel warm.

"We should go to sleep, it's been a long day..." Mustang finally said and Ed nodded, lying down. Glimpsing at the card until he couldn't keep his eyes open anymore and remembering the guys clapping him on the back and wishing for him to get well helped to keep his troubles at bay long enough for him to find sleep.

* * *

He woke to a slow, regular, but still annoying tapping sound. Opening his eyes and blearily sitting up he flinched when realising there was someone sitting next to his bed, tapping a rhythm on the bedside table. Obviously with the intention of slowly waking Ed up because once the boy sat up there was a grin.

"You sleep deep for someone guilty of so many things..." Mustang said.

Ed slowly skidded to the other side of his bed. "Like you are any better." He tried to say it with confidence but it didn't quite work.

Mustang cocked his head to the side, thinking. "Hm, maybe I am, maybe not. At least I only killed to protect my fellow soldiers and to end that war as soon as possible. You on the other hand... when someone dies because of you then it's without any cause and usually only because you were stupid."

"I didn't kill anyone!"

"How about Al?"

Edward felt like he'd been kicked in the stomach, all breath leaving him. "You said I had no intentions to do so so it was an accident!" he croaked out. "I didn't kill him, it was an accident, not my fault! You said so!"

"Of course I'd say so." The colonel raised one slender eyebrow at him, looking at him like he was a particularly annoying and very stupid kid. "I need you to function instead of wallowing in self pity. Of what use is a depressive or resigned Fullmetal to me?"

The question was rhetorical and hurt like hell. Ed's head lowered and his eyes turned moist. A lie, it had all been a lie, how could he have ever believed that this man would care for him when his own father didn't?

"And why are you telling me that now, can't you predict, can't you _see_ it hurts me and makes me useless again?" he asked, stubbornly blinking his eyes dry again.

"I can. And I don't care because, frankly, I've had enough of you." The colonel started tapping the rhythm again, like he was bored by the conversation.

Ed almost choked on trying to not let a sob escape. "But why?"

"Because you still don't know how to follow orders, you stubborn brat and I have no need of a soldier I can't control. You're a far too unpredictable card for my game so I'm getting rid of you."

"I see." One tear escaped after all, the others weren't far from it. "Because I wouldn't let you have Envy?"

"Yes, because you wouldn't let me avenge my best friend even though he only died because he tried to help _you_."

Was it possible to choke up and spit out your own stomach? Ed felt like he was going to do so soon. "I never asked him to- I never wanted him to- I miss him as well!"

Anger flaring in dark eyes yet the voice remained cold and calm. "You have no right to miss him." The colonel leaned back, taking something from his own bed behind him. "You are going back to Resembool-"

"No... please-"

"- and you're going to stay there." He shoved the resignation papers at Ed.

"I can't, I haven't accomplished anything yet! I want to help people, I want to help you make Führer, I-"

"I don't care. You're more trouble than you're worth. Helping me become Führer? You'd sooner kill me. Only _by accident,_ of course."

The words were like acid poured into Ed's ears, making a horrible, panicked ringing sound through his skull. "I'd never-"

"Oh, you _would_!" The colonel lifted his arm, the scar from where Ed hat cut him a silver line in the dim moonlight falling in through the hospital window.

And now Ed couldn't keep back the tears anymore. "Okay. Okay, I'll go. I don't want to hurt you..." His words were almost too quiet to be heard yet Mustang got them anyway. He just scoffed and held out a pen. With a shaking hand Ed scribbled a barely legible signature and once done the colonel carefully put the papers away and then picked up one of the spare ignition gloves Havoc had brought him. "Good, now that that's done, how about some equivalent exchange?" Ed's eyes went wide. "I have a scar because of you so it's only fair if I return the favour. And didn't I say I'll burn an arm of yours?"

He smirked and snapped.

Ed screamed.

* * *

"FULLMETAL, DAMMIT ED WAKE UP!"

Eyes wide open, panting, sitting upright. Edward didn't know where he was, what was real, what not.

"Finally!"

Ed flinched, tried to get away from that voice, that man. He tried to run and struggled when someone caught him. Panic. Fighting instincts kicked in, had him writhing in the others grip.

"Mr. Mustang, please step away and get out of the way!" A woman, a nurse. There to look after his burned arm? Maybe. He didn't care, didn't want to look. He couldn't feel the injury, it must be a third degree burn, skin and nerves too damaged to send the pain signal.

Rustling around him, a needle in his arm before he could even think about getting away from the wretched thing. And then he went calm.

He felt like he should be on high alert but he was calm. Oh, it must have been the needle.

Cradling his burned arm to his chest he stared at the ceiling, waiting for the drugs to wear off. He hated being drugged.

* * *

Finally Edward felt somewhat clear again and sat up to shake the last bit of lethargy off. Movement next to him made him stiffen and he turned to see Mustang looking at him.

"Are you all right?" he asked.

Ed felt like laughing. The man who'd hurt him asked if he was alright. Hilarious.

But then he frowned, once again realising that his arm wasn't hurting, as it should after being burned. Plus, Mustang didn't look as smug as he should. Instead he seemed rather worn out, like he didn't get much sleep. So Ed looked down and was greeted with an arm that was perfectly fine.

"You didn't burn it." he said, eyebrows furrowing in confusion.

"Burn what?" Mustang seemed just as confused as he was.

"My arm."

The colonel frowned as he digested that answer. "Is that what you dreamed about and woke up from in a panic?" he finally asked.

"Dreamed..." Ed repeated slowly. Yes, that was probably it. He must have dreamed it, why else was his arm perfectly unblemished despite a small scratch from the train wreck?

Mustang looked down at his hands. "It's because I threatened you when you kept me from killing that damn homunculus, isn't it?" he wanted to know, sounding as ashamed as a usually proud man can.

"I- I guess." Ed felt stupid for not being able to tell dream from reality once he woke up. He scratched at his neck, swallowing before asking: "Would you have done it? If Hawkeye hadn't been there helping me to get you back on track, would you have done it?"

Now Mustang definitely looked ashamed. "I really don't know," he quietly admitted. "I was so angry I wasn't myself, couldn't think clearly. But... if I'd done it... just know I would have felt guilty for the rest of my life. I would never forgive myself for hurting you."

"Are you just saying that to keep me functioning?" It was an idiotic question, the colonel could just lie, but still. Ed couldn't help but blurt it out.

Mustang stared at him. "Keep you func- what?!" He shook his head. "I'm not as much of a manipulator as you think I am, Fullmetal." He then stated, sounding clipped in favour of suppressing a probably hurt tone. But then his demeanour softened. "I'm sorry if it looks like I'm just putting up an act. I just can't do any better than I do now."

Ed couldn't help but smile a tiny smile, half bitter, half fond. "It's okay. It's actually more than enough what you do, even if it was just pretense."

"It's not-"

"It's okay." Ed repeated, still with that smile. Because really, even if it was pretense, as long as Mustang was still willing to keep it up despite all the trouble it had already gotten him, it was good enough for Edward. He had come to depend on the colonel so much and it wasn't so bad, helped him keep going. And keep going and living on was what he'd promised Al to do. The promise had seemed like a burden at first, denying him to just lie down and end the suffering, but with Mustang there it had actually seemed worth to be kept, like maybe he still was good for something and could make Al proud before seeing him again, should afterlife exist after all. Like Al could forgive him for everything Ed felt he'd done wrong to his brother, should their souls really not just perish like their bodies upon death.

And Al had always been one to be happy for others, Ed knew his little brother would smile if he'd see him sit on the colonel's couch, talking animatedly to the man while the Flame cooked pancakes without milk even though he could drive Ed up the wall so perfectly by pouring a generous amount of the disgusting cow juice into the bowl right before Ed's eyes.

So yes, he felt like even pretenses could make him happy enough and like he could even accept that happiness.

Mustang sighed. "It shouldn't be, not like that. You shouldn't say "It's okay" when you think I might be lying."

Edward shrugged. "It's the best I'll ever get, I guess."

The colonel looked downright appalled. Then he actually face-palmed. "You idiot! You complete moron! This is probably the tenth time I tell you, but you deserve so much good after having so much bad happening to you and still staying a good person. Yet you still act like a horse with blinders put on the wrong way around! You only look back instead of seeing what is in front of you! Dammit, look around you! There are so many people who want to see you happy, so many good experiences just waiting for you to make them! I know it's hard to get over the past and I'm a hypocrite and probably the most incapable person to help you but still... " In a rare show of not knowing what to say Mustang flailed his hands around once, then let them drop to his side, looking at Ed with resignation. "Just what does it take to finally convince you that I meant every word I ever said about helping you, supporting you and caring for you?!"

Ed blinked at him, stunned. Then he looked down, staring at his hands as he thought about that question. He hated to admit this because he knew that within half an hour after this conversation there would be a smart remark about his height or some other sort of teasing and Mustang would probably never stop being a smug, annoying bastard, but still, he wanted to believe the colonel. He wanted the man's care, bantering, friendly insults and horseplay included. He wanted to know that Mustang would be there for him no matter what, that even if he dropped out of the military Mustang wouldn't abandon him. He wanted what he'd tried to fix ever since his father left, what he'd tried to fix by looking after Al and attempting to bring their mother back. But was the colonel just a very good actor or was he really willing to be friends, to be **family,** for lifetime?

Well, to get his answer Edward had to answer Mustang's question first.

So he took a deep breath and said, "Adopt me."


	33. The Deal For Those You Don't Want To Ditch

"Adopt me."

Roy Mustang's reaction to that was simply hilarious.

At first he just sat in his chair completely frozen, not moving at all for what felt like two minutes. It was like processing Ed's sentence took up so much of his brain capacity that he couldn't even remember to breathe. Finally his mouth opened and closed a few times, like a startled fish that couldn't believe what just swam past it and only then did he gasp for air at last, taking in one hasty breath that nearly had him choking and ended up with a hiccup. Ed wondered if maybe he had given the man a stroke but he wasn't sure if those were the symptoms. Probably not.

Eyes still wide as saucers Mustang continued to silently gape like an idiot for a while longer though, until in the end he finally asked "Come again?" in a voice that was a bit higher in pitch than usual.

Edward wasn't sure if this was a negative reaction or if it was just Mustang being completely startled. He'd fully understand both reactions though. Opening his mouth to repeat what he just said, he faltered though as he realised the gravity of what he was just asking from the colonel. Not to mention he did so without any warning, practically randomly and on a whim.

But was it really just a whim? It might be the wrong moment but it certainly didn't feel like just a whim. It felt like just officially establishing an aspect that had silently made its way into their relationship all along, acknowledging that subtle change that had crept in ever since the colonel told him to get his stuff from the dorm room.

But then just because Ed was finally ready to admit that he had come to see the black haired man as family didn't mean the colonel acknowledged him in the same way. What if for Mustang, if he really wasn't just pretending, all of this was still on the levels of friendship? Would he accept that Ed saw him as something more or would it make everything awkward and ruin it all? Or what if Mustang just wasn't willing to admit any change? What if, unlike Ed, he didn't feel like they'd been through enough to warrant swallowing his pride?

So this time Ed's words were quieter and much shyer. "A-adopt me."

The colonel swallowed, taking a moment to shift his position, body-language signalling that he took this matter seriously. He cleared his throat once, then finally spoke. "Don't-... don't take this the wrong way, that I'm not immediately jumping up to hug you screaming "Yes!" doesn't mean I'm not... kinda... _happy_ , but I-... I don't think I can make that decision right now Ed..." The colonel worried his lip, looking at Ed with unusually insecure eyes. Not receiving an immediate response made him continue. "Damn, I hate talking about this but-... I'm still in turmoil and you probably are too and just how do I know this isn't just your concussion or the aftermath of that nightmare talking? Who the hell would in his right mind want me to-" He stopped abruptly, then released a slow breath, trying to keep his calm. "Just- don't take this wrong but I need some time."

Ed nodded, signalling that needing some time was something he could understand.

Mustang sighed, partly in relief that Ed didn't want an answer right now, partly because of the stress, because now he was charged with making a decision that would have quite the effect on the rest of his life. Edward felt guilty about that. But he couldn't help being a bit selfish for once and just hope.

Because it wasn't like he asked Mustang to be the typical father. Edward would try to not interfere with the man's dream of becoming Führer and he was not going to ask more of him than Mustang already gave. He didn't even plan on calling the bastard 'dad' or something. No, all he really wanted was the knowledge that things would stay as they are, that he would not be left behind some day. He wanted that to be a safe thing.

A nurse came in, interrupting the thoughtful silence in the room. She made to check on Ed and the colonel stood from his chair and moved out of the way. He stretched, working out the kinks that came from sitting too long. Only now did Ed think about that the man probably sat there ever since Ed had his dramatic wakeup, and it gave his optimism a little boost. It would be okay if the colonel was just a grandiose liar. But still, he couldn't crush that little creature called hope.

They were released from the hospital after being checked over one last time and Havoc showed up with one of the military cars to collect them and a likewise released Hawkeye. The colonel and his subordinates talked business until they reached the apartment while Ed looked out of the window, remembering the very first time he'd been in a car on the way to Mustang's apartment. He felt a bit like having a dejavu, once again not knowing what would happen once they arrived at their destination.

But Mustang behaved perfectly normal. Since he didn't have to go back to work until tomorrow he lazily dropped onto the couch, surveying the room with the same disdain he would let the paper towers on his desk feel every morning. It seemed like during the time that Ed had been unresponsive to the world he had let housework slide a bit in favour for looking after his charge. So bossy Mustang did what he always did when the two alchemists needed to look after their living space; he pulled a face, then got out the cleaning supplies and commanded who had to do what.

It was surprisingly easy for them to start yelling friendly insults at each other again while Ed tried to convince Mustang that even with a concussion he could do more than wipe the kitchen table and sweep the wooden living room floor. All it took was a "And I'll dust off the high shelves in the kitchen since you can't reach them," from Mustang and Ed went off in a rant. The colonel laughed and despite his height just having been 'insulted' Edward couldn't help but eventually grin and then join in.

Mustang didn't trust Ed to stick to the doctor's orders to not read so he took Ed to work despite the boy not having to go there, making sure to keep him busy with 'tasks that don't require much concentration'. Edward was sure that if he had to sort another box of red and black paper clips he'd go crazy.

Luckily Havoc and Breda could be just as much of a slacker as their C.O and played cards with him every once in a while. It left Ed with a good stack of money and Breda and Havoc with a healthier living style because the former lost some weight due too losing his lunch money while the latter had made the mistake to bet his cigarette funding and was now sitting there jittery and smokeless. Mustang grinned at his subordinates and decided not to tell them about the aces up Ed's sleeve since it was for their own good.

But despite things being so normal, despite them bickering back and forth over paperwork and paper clips, there still was that ominous cloud hanging above Edward and Mustang. The boy felt it whenever the colonel sat at his small desk in the living room, looking through books and papers that didn't seem to be military, frowning and concentrating with a fierceness that proved he definitely wasn't just working on overdue paperwork. Those instances were short, never more than an hour, mostly only a half, like he didn't want to make Ed nervous, but Ed couldn't help but sit and stare anyway, waiting if maybe now Mustang would tell him his answer. Because he was quite sure Mustang was looking up stuff concerning adoption.

It was after two weeks that Ed looked at the calender and with a fist-bump exclaimed that yes, tomorrow he'd finally be allowed to read again, while Mustang instead of telling him to take it slow leaned back in his chair just staring into nothing for a while. Ed instinctively knew that this was finally the moment when the colonel would tell him he'd made up his mind. So he sat on the living room couch, watching as Mustang propped his feet up on the desk and crossed his arms in front of him, pulling off the incredible feat of looking serious and calmingly casual at the same time. His gaze flickered over for a second out of the corner of his eyes to make sure that he had Ed's attention, then he set on staring at the small map of Amestris pinned at the wall above the desk among other stuff.

"You know, I never planned on having children," he finally said, voice not quite melancholic but something similar.

Ed felt like lowering his head but he resolved into waiting until Mustang was done before he'd give up.

"Not because they're in the way of my career," the man continued, "but simply because I'm a coward." That was said with a bitter edge to it, making it clear the colonel wasn't too happy with himself. "I can't bear the thought of them finding out what being the " _Hero_ of Ishbal" really means, I can't stand the thought of my kids starting to hate me, be disgusted of me, because I held them with hands that are covered in the blood and ashes of other children. I don't want them to know their father has killed hundre-," he winced and corrected himself, "thousands of people." Finally he turned to look at Ed. "And that's why I can't understand your request. Why would you want to be associated with me more than you have to?"

Ed blinked. That was the idiot's main problem? He'd expected a lecture on adoption laws and stuff, not something like this. Smiling ever so slightly he shook his head. "You should learn to practice what you preach," he told the man. "You keep telling me to go on and not look back, yet here you are doing the exact same thing."

"I also told you I'm a hypocrite." A small smirk, then Mustang turned serious again. "Though my looking back is still different from yours, you see, I need to glance over my shoulder every once in a while or I'd forget what I'm fighting for. For me it's a reminder. But for you it's only regret now. The goal you had is gone so looking back to remind yourself why you're marching on doesn't work anymore. But you're so used to looking back you just do it anyway and bring yourself down."

"You might have a point there." Ed defiantly crossed his arms in front of his chest. "But you're still an idiot who only looks at the bad things. Did you ever think about that maybe your kids will accept it because they _know_ you? That _I_ accept it because _I_ know you? I think you punish yourself enough, so why would there be a need for me to do so? You're an annoying bastard but you're still a good person!" He glared at the colonel, unhappy with having to say stuff like that aloud, and finally finished with a, "There you have it, now get over your shit."

Mustang laughed a bit. "Your wording is as elegant as ever," he chuckled. Ed good naturedly rolled his eyes at him. The Flame actually smiled and Ed knew a silent thank you when he saw one. Feeling a bit warmer he snuggled more comfortably into the couch, waiting for what else was yet to come.

"Another point." The colonel finally resumed talking. "You are aware that officially belonging to my family will place you in rising danger while I climb to the top position? It's not uncommon for family members to get into harm's way when political concurrents fight for getting to become Führer."

"I think I can handle that. Knowing you you'll play the idiot womanizer and have them underestimate you until the final moment anyway so we should be relatively out of harms way."

Mustang nodded. "Good to see you know the game," he said with a grin.

"So, any other counter points?" Ed asked.

"You'll have to be transferred to another commanding officer."

"What?! Why?" He stared, not having thought about that.

"Because of the possibility that I might favour you and grant you unfair privileges."

"Like you'd do that, you have far too much fun commanding me around!" Ed huffed.

"That won't make them change the rules. Not to mention they already are a bit pissed because you get special treatment already in some ways. The only reason they didn't interfere already when I started sharing living quarters with an officer much lower in rank than me, meaning you, is because you're a minor and as long as I keep you functioning they will accept that as reason enough for an exception."

"Wait, so once I'm of age I won't be allowed to stay here any longer?!"

Mustang nodded solemnly, then grinned. "Though I don't think you'll still want to live here by then anyway, you'll probably want your own place where I won't get in the way when you bring a girl home and-"

"Mustang!"

The colonel laughed, and Ed huffed, bright red in the face. Though now that he thought about it the colonel was probably right. It wasn't that he wanted this so he could stay in this apartment forever. He wanted this to know that Mustang would always be there for him.

"Hmpf, okay I get this. But shouldn't they see that I won't care about regulations and get on your nerves more than my rank allows anyway? They're stupid."

"They're the top dogs. And usually those laws make sense so no changing them" Mustang shrugged.

Edward hung his head. "I don't want to be transferred," he said. And he meant it. Mustang's team was important to him, he knew he could depend on every single one of them and he'd help them with everything as well, they deserved it, they were good, kind people, his friends. They didn't give up on him. Not to mention they were fun, he had a feeling he'd die in some other chain of command that was so stiff he'd get a court-martial every time he forgot a "sir!"

"Well that leaves two options: You could leave the military... or we just continue as it is. Because I- I can't leave the military, Ed. I'm sorry... but I can't put off my promise to my subordinates, the greater good of the country and the debt I have to the remaining Ishbalans only for one single boy. I'm sorry." He raked his hand through his hair, staring at the map on the wall again before looking at Ed with apologising eyes.

Ed rolled his eyes once again, smiling though. "I'd never ask you to leave the military, moron. I don't want to get in the way of your dreams, I just..." he trailed off.

"You just want to know that I'm not lying, you want things to be safe." Mustang understood anyway.

They sat in thoughtful silence for a while, each one trying to find a solution. Then Mustang took his feet off his desk, the chair falling back down onto all four legs. "Would you mind going into your room for a moment? I need to make a phone call," he asked, picking up the phone on his desk with a questioning expression.

Ed didn't know how to take this but nodded, leaving the living room and sitting down on his bed for the moment. Now fiddling with his bed covers instead of the couch pillow he waited, hearing Mustang talk to someone but not able to make out any words. After what seemed to be quite a while the talking in the living room silenced and Mustang called "Edward, you can come back." So the blond walked back into the living room, finding the colonel rifling through his desk drawers, pulling out empty and written on sheets of paper, a few pens and a pair of ignition gloves. Then he came over to the couch, dumping the materials on the coffee table. Rolling up his sleeves he looked at Ed, black eyes serious. The boy blinked back at him, not quite sure what was to come.

"It's nothing official." Mustang said. "But it's the only thing I can think of to give you some assurance without changing your state in the military. Essentially it's nothing but an equivalent exchange: All of my trust for all of your trust."

"All of your trust?" What was that supposed to mean?

Grabbing pen and paper and starting to write Mustang said: "I want you to trust me to be there for you in the future so I'll put my future into your hands as well. I know your secrets so I'll give you all the dirt on me. And like this if I crumble on my way you know why and can try to help me, just like I'll make sure that you'll keep going on and live your life to the fullest. And if I stray off the path, well then you can put me down, just like I'll make sure that you'll never get lost." He looked down at the pieces of papers in his hands, then fixed Ed with those piercing black eyes. "We'll be on an equal level. What do you say?"

Ed looked at Mustang's hand that had yet to turn the papers to be readable. Would this knowledge assure him as much as a paper that officially said he was Mustang's family?

He swallowed. Then decided.

In the end even an adoption could be made out of ulterior motives, even though that was a grave lie that afforded lots of courage, it was possible. Yet sharing secrets...

You don't share secrets with someone you plan to ditch.

So Edward nodded. "All of my trust for all of yours."

And since Mustang knew that Ed could do his clap alchemy because he had seen Truth the colonel started by explaining that he could do his Flame Alchemy because he had seen Riza Hawkeye's back.

* * *


	34. Epilogue

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So this is the very last chapter. I hope you all had fun reading this and I would like to thank the kind people who left me a comment or two very much. THank you all!

"What if Fullmetal left the military so Mustang could sign those papers? That was quite the gamble if I might say so, sir. Shouldn't we allow an exception? The boy's age should justify the adoption despite the difference in rank."

Führer King Bradley barely turned around from where he was looking out of the window to level an expressionless yet still somehow dark gaze at the General who'd spoken. "Fullmetal's contract runs for another year, he can't leave until then unless he's ready to accept punishment for desertion, which I doubt Mustang will let him do. Not to mention Fullmetal wants to be of use for our good colonel, alchemists aren't good at accepting help without trying to return the favour. So he will remain Mustang's puppy, and Mustang is our dog. Looking at them, I don't think they need a paper stating their relation status anyway; they are close enough so we can use one to control the other just fine. We don't need to grant Fullmetal another special privilege that would only make Mustang even more suspicious of what we might be planning. He knows the rules and he knows that when they're being bent it's usually to bring forward the bender's goals, only helping the one they're being bent for as a side effect. So no, it was no gamble, General."

"Understood, sir." Properly soothed by his mighty leader's great knowledge the General went back to his original tasks. Bradley ignored him, continuing to watch the two sacrifices walking across the lawn in front of Central HQ. Replacing Alphonse Elric while being short two homunculi wouldn't be easy. He didn't miss Envy who was at fault for all this mess, actually he still cursed the mindless sadist for working out some elaborate plan containing Kimbley to keep Mustang busy instead of just presenting the man with a scapegoat, yet Lust had been bearable and useful most of the time.

But then he still had some humans who gladly served him for hollow promises of immortal armies so it should all be fine. Calmly, he walked away from the window to sit behind his desk so he could think about who he'd send to lead the Drachmen to Briggs instead of Kimbley.

* * *

Edward was lazing about with his back leaning against one of the few trees that were supposed to make HQ not so hard on the eyes. Staring up at the leaves moving slightly in the wind he relished the sunlight filtering through the green. It was on days like these that he missed Al the most and his heart would ache, every beat a tune in the song of mourning. But no matter how much he wished, there was no soft clinking of an armour moving to keep a few birds in his line of sight or try and lure some cat over. Yet unlike a few months ago that sorrow didn't drive him into pure desperation or numbness any more. Al had told him to live on and thanks to Mustang he had finally understood that living didn't only mean to keep the body functioning. No, living entailed so much more. Not only the bad feelings he thought he deserved but joy and fun and all the other good feelings as well. Life was an emotional roller-coaster and he was supposed to feel all of it or it wouldn't have been a life.

Edward still wasn't sure just why it had been that bastard of a colonel who'd been the one to finally help him get back on his feet but he was grateful to Mustang. For him having been there, still being there and going to be there. For the first few days after Mustang had laid bare his secrets Ed had had that irrational fear that Mustang would vanish for good whenever he walked out of the door, finally realising that being close to Ed wasn't easy with all the problems that came along with the boy. But the colonel was still his usual smug self and annoyed the hell out of him every so often, like this morning when he'd been musing about if Ed would ever be able to drive a car, for his short legs would never be able to reach the gas pedal.

As infuriating as that was, it was great just as well. It was like Winry yelling at him that he was an alchemy freak when he told her she was an automail freak, it was like screaming matches with Pinako when she called him short and he tried to get it into the old hag's head that she was even shorter than him. It was familiar. It was his way of showing affection, and he knew the others liked him just as much just the way he was, because they got along with that way and reciprocated. And that's why Ed might have no relatives left but that didn't mean he didn't have a family. (He didn't count Hohenheim as a relative there for him since the man had never and probably would never again be there.)

So sitting here missing and remembering Al was okay. Painful, yes, but still okay because he knew once this lunch break was over he could walk back into the office and be welcomed by his wonderful, boring, exiting, normal life. There'd be people who cared for him and people he cared for. Things worth living for. Ed smiled at the sun peaking through the leaves above him.

"Tell me what up there makes you grin like that, I could use some cheering up... damn paperwork!" It was quite interesting how even when practically slumping to the ground to lean against the tree next to Ed Mustang could still look somewhat dignified.

"Just thought about something," Ed said, feeling too relaxed to mock the colonel for being a lazy ass.

"Hmhm," Mustang hummed, half questioning, half accepting the answer. He seemed to be about to doze off, which Ed wasn't sure he should prevent since watching Hawkeye come down here to chase the man back into his office was quite the fun. But then she'd kill him too for not making the colonel go back so maybe he should bully Mustang back to work by himself after all. Though they still had a bit of their break left and Ed didn't feel much more like moving back into the building than Mustang did. No, he would relish the good weather a bit longer. Because he still could.

"Thank you," he said after a while of looking at his half-asleep CO.

Mustang lazily blinked one eye open and raised his eyebrows. "What for?"

Ed closed his eyes, for a moment savouring how the sun beams that got past the leaves warmed his face before peering back at Mustang. "For everything."

That wasn't very specific but judging by the way Mustang smiled ever so slightly before leaning his head back to relish the sunlight himself the colonel knew what Ed meant anyway. "You're always welcome," he said, reaching one hand out to absent-mindedly ruffle Ed's hair and chuckling when Ed flailed and made sure that one bit of hair that always stood up wasn't flattened to his head. The boy glowered for a while but then turned back to his contemplative yet still strangely happy mood.

"Al told me to live on," he told the man, seeing him open the eyes he'd just closed again once more. "But I'm not sure if I wouldn't have just slowly wasted away anyway, even without actively trying to end things."

For a moment the colonel looked thoughtful, then he said, "All humans need to feel even the slightest whiff of a purpose or they feel worthless. The most simple purpose to find is to help others. You are young, you are brilliant, and even if you weren't, don't waste your potential, your life. There are others who want to live and can't. So no matter how bad your life seems, grab on to that purpose, Edward. And you'll see, it helps not only them, but you, too."

"You think so?"

Mustang shrugged. "I'm sometimes too optimistic and naïve for my own good, I learned that lesson when I joined the military to help the country and ended up on the front lines, wreaking even more havoc on it." He paused, then smiled. "But then, if you think you've lost everything already anyway, what harm is there in trying and following that foolish advice of mine?"

"Probably none." Ed grinned.

"Well then, Edward Elric." Mustang straightened up, extending a hand, dark eyes serious, "Promise me. Promise me that no matter what you'll always find yourself a purpose and be happy without any guilt."

"Because your purpose is to help me just as much as my purpose is to help you?" Ed's grin widened even if there was a certain seriousness behind it.

"Exactly." And there was that arrogant smirk that used to make him so angry and now only told him that Mustang was out to prove he wouldn't be brought down, that the colonel was sure they could do this. "Because at the end of the day we all want those important to us to be happy. We all want the others to struggle on. And struggle on they will. Because it wouldn't be fair if we deny each other's purpose, would it?"

"Equivalent exchange isn't always fair. But I guess _we_ can try to be fair." He slapped his palm into Mustang's hand. "So I promise I will struggle on. And you will too."

"I promise."

And they knew they would, if only to prove the other that they could. Flame and Fullmetal were like that. No matter how close they were, there was nothing like showing off to each other.

So when Havoc came back from a not so well gone lunch date he found nothing special about Ed running a slalom course across HQ's front lawn with the colonel's ignition glove in his hand, which he must have somehow pulled off Mustang's hand, while the colonel snapped his other gloved hand to bring the boy to a stop. It was as normal as seeing Fuery walk out of the building with a heap of wires on him to test how far the capacity of whatever device he was just tinkering with reached, or as seeing Breda, who just came back as well, scream and run away from Black Hayate who followed Hawkeye as she came to get their colonel back to work. No, these days were normal and good and well and they should cherish them. One never knew when darker days could come again.

So they didn't argue too much when Hawkeye shooed them all back inside. Because they all knew they had work to do. And that didn't only mean paperwork, no, their work was to make lives better. For life should not be wasted. After all, no matter how horrible things could get; when we look back, life is beautiful.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For a little glimpse into Roy's and Ed's future take a look at the omake that accompanies this story. There will be some more heart warming moments :)


End file.
